


The Good Captain

by PenchantPearls



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Deepthroating, Dom Steve Rogers, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Fingerfucking, Oral Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:28:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23872363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenchantPearls/pseuds/PenchantPearls
Summary: Steve Rogers has never given much credence to the monster prowling beneath the surface, but when he meets Stark’s head of PR, she can taste the monster barely contained within him; because it matches hers so exactly.Is there a problem?’ He ventured‘No more than usual.’‘I mean here,’ he risked looking at her ‘is there a problem here?’For a moment he thought she’d ignore the question, continue to stare at the doors, rigid as ever. She turned.‘I’ve heard the stories about you, from people who know, not just rumours.’‘And?’‘And I think you’re hiding something.’
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 46
Collections: Explicit Stories





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed tags and enjoy
> 
> All feedback welcome xx
> 
> Love,  
> PenchantPearls

‘You be careful Cap,’ the voice crackled through his comms ‘we got hostages in there.’  
Steve’s jaw clenched as he surveyed the clearing from where he was crouched behind a particularly thick support beam in the ceiling. Four men were circling crates, no doubt filled with the stolen chemical recently stolen from SHIELD’s BioBase.  
‘I know.’  
He bit out, his head whipping to the left as he caught Nat’s shadow moving in on a man who had wandered just out of his fellow mercenary’s line of sight. His unconscious body didn’t make a sound as it hit the floor. Steve knew there would be others surrounding the outskirts of the compound. He only hoped there wouldn’t be more than Clint and Sam could handle. As for him, he’d have to see to those hostages. Nat made eye contact, the nod of her head barely perceptible. Steve braced himself against the beam and then launched backward, rotating so he landed feet first between the shoulder blades of the thug below him. It was quick work, but not quick enough as he heard the echoes of a shot ring out in the hollow space. Distant footfalls soon followed as they were made. So much for stealth.  
‘Sounds like a change of plan in there’ Sam’s voice was flat above the rush of his wings.  
‘You go,’ shouted Nat ‘I’ve got this.’  
She engaged and dispatched two men quickly with the batons she held in each hand. She was right, and Steve had to move. He had time only enough to follow the path Clint cleared for him as he spring boarded from one thug to the next.  
‘To your right, Cap,’ the archer said as he notched an explosive arrow to his quiver ‘locked door. 7 hostages.’  
Steve veered. The door was steel; it would slow him down considerably.  
‘Could you-’  
‘Already on it’ Clint replied as he let the arrow loose and it landed squarely in the middle of the handle, shattering it and leaving a gaping hole where the closure had been.  
‘Thanks.’ Steve, still running full tilt, jumped kicking the door and the assailant hiding behind it in the chest sending him flying through the window behind him and onto the balcony below. There was a collective shout at the intrusion from the centre of the room where men and women were bound back to back.  
‘Captain America!’ the awed voice of a woman in the lab coat in front of him. He knelt before her and pulled the ropes binding them all apart with one quick tug.  
‘Ma’am’ he nodded at her, helping her to her feet. It seemed as though they had taken every technician in the lab when it was robbed, barring one woman who had on a dark blue dress with a gold zip that ran from the bottom all the way up to her lovely neck. She wasn’t dressed like any scientist he’d seen before.  
‘How are we going to get out of here?’  
The woman in the dress hissed at him, her dark eyes widening at the encroaching sound of gunfire.  
‘We brought a transport ma’am, don’t worry.’  
‘Do you plan on driving it into this room?’  
She was almost shouting over the noise of bullets outside.  
‘Bobby’ The coat next to her scolded with an outraged expression on his face. Steve was taken aback. It was an unusual occurrence that civilians were irritated at being rescued.  
‘We’re going to get you out safely. Don’t worry ma’am.’  
Her mouth set into a hard line that didn’t even flinch as a bullet ricocheted off the wall by her head.  
‘Everybody down!’  
Steve yelled as he flung his shield towards the broken door, wedging it shut as the shield bit into the doorjamb.  
‘Clint, I need that transport sooner rather than later.’  
He smashed out the rest of the glass of the window he sent the thug through, gesturing for them to start climbing out. The woman (the man had called her Bobby, hadn’t he?) hung back. It was no more than a minute later as Clint pulled the plane down to the balcony level extending the ramp. Steve held his hand out to her. She pursed her throw pillow lips nervously glancing behind her.  
‘Ma’am please.’  
He implored. She reached out to him. She wasn’t going to make it through the window in that dress.  
Hooking one hand around her hem at the knee, she tugged until the material was bunched over her thighs and then bare foot, extended first one leg and then the other as Steve helped her swivel over the ledge. His touch was unexpectedly gentle, especially given the circumstances. Grabbing his shield, he cleared the sill and stalked to where Nat was strapping in some of the more shaken hostages.  
‘Is this stuff safe to carry with people on board?’  
Steve asked glancing at several of the crates that had already been loaded.  
‘It’s still in liquid form,’ one of the techs replied ‘it’s not lethal unless it’s inhaled.’  
He nodded. That explained why all the hostages had been left alive; they were still needed. Clint raised the hangar door buzzing Sam to tell him to move out. It wasn’t as quiet as he would have liked but no civilian casualties counted as much of a success as any.  
‘Cap?’  
Clint was awaiting the take off order, still giving Nat time to ensure everything and everyone was secure in the back. Steve did one final check; the chemical shaking noisily with the vibration of the engine but harmless, the lab techs; a few of them clutching at each other or staring listlessly in front of them, and Bobby, dress no longer rucked up around her thighs, sitting opposite him with watchful eyes and what appeared to be disdain curling her lip. He nodded.  
‘Let’s go.’

Bobby had never taken such a long shower. The mandatory medical had only been a waste of her time, especially considering she was normally the one organising it. She wasn’t ungrateful enough not to thank her lucky stars that she hadn’t been hurt, but as a result, her kidnapping had only delayed her already hectic work schedule. Hot water clung to her lashes, enveloped her shoulders as she willed the tension in her body to disappear down the drain with the dregs of her shampoo. Her being in the lab when it was raided had been a necessary detour, albeit unwelcome. Being the head of Tony Stark’s PR had its disadvantages to accompany the excellent salary package. She technically shouldn’t have been on the base at all if it weren’t for the courier errand Tony had sent her on. It seemed after having one PA turn out to be a capable spy had set his expectations a little too high for the rest of his staff.  
There were 60 hours worth of leave just waiting for her to use, and in all fairness no one would expect her to dismiss recovery time after a harrowing ordeal, but there were things to do; damage control and those damn PSA’s that Captain America had been roped into doing for the school curriculum.  
She shivered in the steam.  
Captain America. Steve Rogers in the flesh. She hadn’t planned on meeting him for the first time under such circumstances but some things; she begrudgingly admitted, were out of her control. She couldn’t say that she was enamoured as some of her counterparts were. She couldn’t even really say she liked him but up until now, she hadn’t been able to pinpoint exactly why.  
He was too good. He was too pure. His spirit too encouraging, the manners too polite. The man was a walking affectation, right down to the all-American set of his jaw that had come out of a manual. Her eyes narrowed at the memory of how he had called her ma’am no less than three times in as many sentences. It’s not that good men didn’t exist; she was too much of a realist for that notion. Obviously she owed him a debt for his work in the war and everything he’d done since then, the whole country did. But for as long as she could remember she had been in control and seen others in similar positions lose it. No one could stay that squeaky clean wading through the mud as he did. She knew better than anyone that living in the public eye in and of itself could make monsters of men. Any man who pretended otherwise was a fool or a liar. Every one lost control at some point. Bobby shivered again. This time it had nothing to do with irritation. What type of monster would Captain America be if pushed too far in the right direction? No, Captain America was untouchable, a symbol for the ages and a legend. Steve Rogers however, was a man, and every man had his breaking point. Her mouth quirked upwards at the thought. Bobby couldn’t have known after their brief interaction that the reason the Good Captain was getting under her skin was because she had unconsciously recognised a kindred spirit. As she towelled off and folded herself into her pressed white sheets, she was comforted by the nagging thought of what would make a man like him break; what exactly it would take to turn this man into a monster.

‘You promised’  
Ross warned in a low tone. Tony was watching with glee, uncharacteristically quiet.  
‘How long is this going to take?’  
Steve crossed him arms in front of his chest, trying desperately not to let his displeasure show on his face. It was for children after all.  
‘That’s up to the mayor’ Steve huffed ‘and you have to wear the old suit.’  
‘Oh goody’  
Tony veritably squeaked.  
‘What?’  
Steve asked, his annoyance colouring his tone.  
‘You know, for image purposes, tradition,’ Ross had already started for the door, his swift exit declaring the meeting over ‘you don’t need to be wearing aerodynamic mesh hybrids for a video’ the door shut. He dropped his arms, fists clenching.  
‘Well Cap,’ Tony started ‘you better go make sure it still fits.’  
‘I’ll be in the gym.’  
‘Don’t worry,’ Tony winked at him, his smile broadening ‘I wouldn’t let you miss an opportunity to help steer the impressionable youth of today.’

This man was beginning to cause her a lot of grief. The Good Captain was not in his room, or the common mess, or any of the meeting rooms. Bobby pulled her phone, exasperated, out of her pocket.  
‘Bobby,’ no greeting from her boss as per usual ‘you’re supposed to be on leave after -uh, the -uh-’  
‘Stark, I can’t find him and if I don’t in the next three minutes we will be dangerously close to being considered tardy’  
‘He’s in the gym.’  
‘Thanks.’  
She’d already pulled her phone away from her ear to disconnect the call before she heard him speak again.  
‘Hey listen, I know you weren’t supposed to be anywhere near the BioBase and it’s really my fau-’ although she appreciated the effort she just didn’t have time right now. Stark could make it up to her with a Christmas bonus if he cared that much.  
‘-Tony, is this an apology?’  
‘Ya’  
‘Accepted’ She disconnected the call.  
Ever thankful she hadn’t worn stilettos, she near ran to the elevator glancing at her watch. The mayor would be displeased to say the least if they were late given he’d had to request the Captain America PSA’s twice before Steve even agreed. She could hear the pounding of what presumably was a punching bag before the doors had even opened. Her phone was buzzing insistently against her hip, no doubt her assistant downstairs waiting by the car. So lost was Steve in his own rhythm that he didn’t hear her over the sound of his fist hitting the bag until she said his name.  
‘Captain Rogers.’ His eyes flicked to her, almost not registering the interruption. When he saw her though, straight and commanding in the doorway, mouth set in that familiar hard line, he was floored. He had never seen this woman before and now twice in a week. Reluctantly he admitted that he wanted to know why she seemed to despise his very presence. What was her name again? Bobby. He doubted it would be welcome coming from him given the fact they had yet to be formally introduced.  
‘Ma’am’  
If he wasn’t mistaken he saw her mouth twitch.  
‘The production team is waiting on us. We need to leave immediately.’  
Steve was still a tad stunned. Something about this woman had thrown him off but as it stood, his inaction was visibly angering her.  
‘Captain. Now.’ Bobby could see the muscle in his jaw work as he walked to her. Clearly he was as thrilled as she was at the prospect of this ridiculous project.  
He strode calmly behind her, allowing her as much space as she could take up with her pace to the elevator. They stood side by side, not speaking; the only sound audible was the unrelenting buzzing coming from her phone. He could feel her eyes roll as he opened his mouth; his drawn in breath loud in the otherwise quiet space.  
‘I didn’t expect…’ To what? To see you? That you’d hate me so palpably when all I’ve done is rescue you? He already knew before he finished the sentence that it had only served to irritate her further. What was it with this woman? She looked at him.  
‘Yes? Didn’t expect to what? Wake up 70 years in the future?’ Her feigned interest was almost overshadowed by her sarcasm. His eyebrows rose sightly.  
‘I didn’t expect you’d be here’  
‘Doing my job, you mean.’  
‘Well, considering what happened-’  
Was this elevator taking them directly to the centre of the earth or what? She felt like they’d been in here for minutes already.  
‘-What happened, Captain, was an inconvenience, all things considered. Maybe a larger one for you than for myself, and for that I apologise, but the wheels have to keep turning and apparently I’m the only one who knows how.’  
He shook his head, his brow furrowing.  
‘Look, maybe we got off on the wrong foot, but I’m not so sure what I’ve done to offend you Miss….’  
If his hearing weren’t enhanced he would’ve missed her sigh.  
‘Captain,’ she finally turned to face him ‘I appreciate what you’ve done for me and for this country, but right now I need to do my job; and that means getting you to this studio on time so the mayor stops calling me asking why America’s golden boy thinks he’s above educational work for the children of this nation.’  
‘I don’t-’  
‘-I know. But if we are late, then that’s not the impression we give,’ she finally snapped open her insistent phone as the doors to the lift opened on the ground floor ‘What?’  
They were walking towards a young man waiting anxiously by an open car door.  
‘We have less then 18 minutes to get there.’ He spoke into the mouthpiece of his mobile as the disembodied voice and the one in front of them synchronised. At that she did sigh heavily. She looked at Steve, her gaze steady and for the first time without any frustration.  
‘After you.’

He felt ridiculous to say the least. Who wrote this nonsense? His old suit wasn’t as comfortable as he remembered. The green screen behind him didn’t make any sense but apparently images were to be projected onto it. Now probably wasn’t the time to point out that it was still blankly green. He felt more like a science experiment now than he ever had, people fussing over him, shining lights in his face, the snap of a camera going off every few seconds. There was one factor that was unsettling him more than anything else though, and she was standing off to the side, her ever-piercing eyes taking stock of everything around her. The set of her face made Steve think that if he asked her how many people were in the building, that she would not only know, but be able to tell him where they were, what they were doing and at what temperature they liked their eggs poached. Her back was ramrod straight, her clothes as svelte and as stiff as she was. Did this dame ever relax? He chided himself immediately at the thought. Not two nights ago she had been kidnapped and had her life threatened. They could both be forgiven a little extra tetchiness.  
It passed in a blur but when the final take was called, Steve felt like Azzano had been a comparative cakewalk. He found his eyes travelling back to find a recognisable stiff postured figure. Her presence was the only familiar entity, even if the only thing he could rely on was her animosity.  
Definitely not a scientist. He took stock of her today. The previous blue dress had been replaced with an airtight black skirt that grazed her calves and a simple grey blouse that skimmed over her slender shoulders. Her presence belied her size. The command she exuded was obvious despite the fact she looked like she had the same girth in her waist as he did in his wrist. That waist that flared into those hips…She looked in a word, Steve thought, breakable. Physically she was almost delicate. He stopped the thought in its tracks as though she might hear it if she stared at him too hard. He could only imagine the wrath that would follow if she ever heard him use that word to describe her. A memory flashed before him, startling in its clarity. Peggy’s red-lipped mouth as it shaped around the words she spoke to him.  
‘That’s an order, Captain.’  
Steve was possessed by the need to roll his neck to loosen it. She had always looked so serious until she smiled and then her face completely transformed. He never had the pleasure however, of having that same mouth open in its breathlessness for him. Never had the opportunity to return the favour by making Peggy submit to his demands, no matter how dearly he had wanted to when she looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Looked at him the same way Bobby was looking at him now. That’s an order Captain. He remembered how suddenly the need had seized him during one briefing, as Peggy leaned over him pointing to a reference on a map and her lipstick had almost glowed in the low light of the room. As he turned his head, her mouth so close to his own, of course he had wanted to kiss her, had even had the opportunity in the end, but what really shook him was the overwhelming desire to drag his hand through the flawlessly applied colour until it was smeared all over her cheek. He had wanted to pull the pins out of her perfect curls until she was a complete and glorious mess. And then have her thank him for it. So lost in his own thoughts as he was, Steve wasn’t aware that she had caught his gaze as his eyes travelled up her stocking clad legs, her sinful black skirt, the small patch of bare skin below her clavicles until finally he came to rest on her narrowed, dark eyes. He averted his gaze but not before he saw the questioning arch in her eyebrow. A woman like that had no time for him; that, at least she had made abundantly clear. What would he even do with a woman so cold? 

Bobby knew she was looking for any excuse to justify her distrust of the man lauded for his singular trustworthiness. She managed to find fault with everything, the simplicity with which he seemed to slip in and out of his charming smiling Captain persona while the cameras were rolling; the quiet ill-at ease young man who made it too easy to believe he was out of place in this time period. His clean-cut appearance belied the mystery of the mask he wore. She hadn’t been at all surprised at his handsome face when she’d seen him for the first time without it in the gym that morning. Of course he was all blonde hair and plush lips. His psyche profile, nestled snugly in her memory, had no glaring red flags given his history. A martyr complex notwithstanding, but that was what sold him so well; he didn’t even have to fake being the hero. Perhaps she was being unfair and yet she knew that everyone had a dark side. The fact she had yet to figure his out made him an unknown entity, a risk. She couldn’t afford to take risks in her job. He would be infinitely harder to manage if she couldn’t anticipate what he might do and no one could stay that straight and narrow forever; not doing what he did.  
The poor man looked exhausted. It was harder to feign a character when exhausted.  
‘Time.’ She called to the detriment of the director who seemed to be marking another shot.  
‘The Mayor-’  
‘-Can reschedule if he wants more material. Your time slot ended 2 and a half minutes ago’  
There was outright challenge in her steely gaze and Steve watched in awe as the director (who was at least a foot taller than her) deflated under her piercing stare. He was thankful for her strict adherence to procedure if it got him out of anymore horrendous educational videos. Steve’s impaired judgement had him feeling brave enough to attempt speaking with her in the car on the way back.  
‘Thank you.’ He said simply. She seemed to soften.  
‘I’m just doing my job, Captain’ Her voice was soft but there was still finality in her tone. Steve ignored it.  
‘Please call me Steve. I’ve been the Captain all day.’  
‘If you insist’  
It was customary in an introduction to return the favour and yet she remained silent. He huffed in amazement  
‘And your name is?’  
He prompted in the vain hope to make some sort of friendly connection with her. Typical. The Good Captain probably couldn’t bare the thought of anyone disliking him.  
‘Roberta Di Breve’  
He extended his hand noting her exclusion of the nick-name everyone else used. A beat. She shook his, their hands meeting for the second time.  
‘It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am,’ she said nothing ‘officially.’  
He held the door open for her as they exited the car but didn’t have a chance at the entrance to the tower considering the speed at which she was walking. Her phone was buzzing again. She answered while waiting for their lift. Did she stay in the tower too? He didn’t care to acknowledge the flicker of hope that the answer was yes. Apparently Tony had called an impromptu press conference that she had to prep for tomorrow morning. Apart from the deep sigh she emitted, Steve would never have known that her plan for a relaxing bath had just been shot to shit and her tolerance for Tony Stark had decreased yet again. She stepped into the lift without a glance at him, even as he moved directly next to her. A beat.  
‘Is there a problem?’ He ventured  
‘No more than usual.’  
‘I mean here,’ he risked looking at her ‘is there a problem here?’  
For a moment he thought she’d ignore the question, continue to stare at the doors, rigid as ever. She turned.  
‘I’ve heard the stories about you, from people who know, not just rumours.’  
‘And?’  
‘And I think you’re hiding something.’  
Steve’s expression clouded. The accusation was unwarranted. He bit back a retort, his jaw clenching. She didn’t miss it. Her mouth was parted on the verge of her next word.  
Red lipstick smeared across her cheek.  
‘I’m not saying you’re not a good man, please don’t mistake me,’  
Hair pulled messily around her shoulders  
‘But I don’t trust a man who fosters the myth of his infallibility,’  
Her on her knees, begging him for mercy; begging him for more  
‘Because everyone has their limits, and it’s my business to know sooner rather than later, exactly what they are and what it takes to get them there.’  
Had she moved closer or was that wishful thinking? Steve’s blood was suddenly boiling in his veins.  
‘A good man you may be Captain, but a man none the less’. There was that taunt again, unbidden in her expression. His hands balled into fists. How dare she?  
‘Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me it’s not all for show.’  
The tight muscle in Steve’s jaw twitched and goddamn her she did not miss it.  
‘Have I made you angry Cap?’  
‘Enough’ he bit it out between gritted teeth. She paused, seemingly weighing her next words before they left her mouth, her eyes narrowing. It was the first time she didn’t seem to know exactly what was going to happen before it did.  
‘Do you want to hit me, Captain?’  
The shock of her question had Steve rooted to the spot. His hand whipping across her face, stinging against her mouth and smearing her lipstick. She would look so fucking beautiful… His breath was ripped out of his chest, constricting it and forcing out a small huff. Her expression turned smug.  
Staring fully into his face and cataloguing the tightening of his eyes, the fact his pupils were now blown wide, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly; she knew.  
‘There you are’ she whispered.  
The elevator door sounded and slid open. A smirk tugged at the corner of her lips as she turned and left him, ears red tipped and cock half hard in the elevator. As for Steve, he couldn’t be sure if it was the imagery of her words or the sheer triumph on her face that made him angrier. Angry at himself, angry with her for knowing, angry that he had met her at all. One thing was for certain; her derision for him was now something he could return in kind. 

It was a rule that Bobby didn’t ask questions she didn’t already have the answers to, but the Good Captain was baiting her so perfectly, and without even knowing it. Do you want to hit me, Captain? It was not in her nature to be so impertinent but he was forcing her hand, pushing her into pushing him. She had found his itch but was surprised to realise how closely it had aligned with hers.  
Controlling in her professional life she may be, but when she heard how sweetly his breath had hitched, as she knew he was picturing hitting her, she couldn’t help the twinge of desire at wanting him to. He was a strong man, so very big and thickly chorded with muscle. How far would he go, knowing how much damage he could cause? This line of thinking was purely for her own enjoyment. The thought of the Good Captain making her beg him to dominate her had an ache emanating from that sweet spot between her thighs. If only she had the time to let go like she so desperately craved. It was obvious that Bobby hadn’t taken time to process her recent trauma, something pointed out in a very blunt email from the therapist regarding her mandatory counselling session the second time she rescheduled. What she wanted, no, what she needed was to give up control, if only for a little while. As it stood however, she was simply in no position to do that, no matter how tempting breaking a certain Captain past his point of no return was.

‘I think a party is in order.’  
Bobby looked imploringly at Pepper, her fingers flying across her keyboard to finalise the notes of his impromptu press conference, as Tony paced around his mini bar.  
‘Can we get through this conference first?’  
‘Don’t be so uptight Di Breve, you’re invited.’  
He poured himself a club soda after Pepper’s stern look as he hovered too close to the bourbon.  
‘Thank you, Mr Stark but I shall have to decline.’  
‘As usual’ He muttered under his breath.  
Pepper rounded the table where she was sitting and put a soothing hand on her shoulder.  
‘Unfortunately, Bobby, you will have to babysit, as I’ll be in D.C’  
‘Pepper, please…’  
Pepper shrugged non-committedly  
Tony pouted and began rattling off a list of attendees that Bobby mentally crossed reference with who caused the most damage at his last ‘do’.  
The two women ignored him as he continued to reel off names. Pepper leaned in conspiratorially.  
‘Good luck’

Bobby couldn’t help her dismay as she unzipped the dry cleaning bag hanging on the inside of her door. The dress Pepper had left for her was positively wicked. Her attendance was mandatory regardless of the setting, another perk of being on the Stark payroll. While Pepper was gone, she had to keep an eye on Tony. While the length wasn’t displeasing, mid calf just as she liked, and the colour inoffensive with it’s simple burgundy, the low back of the dress came dangerously close to being obscene. She would be having words with Pepper about this. Forgoing a bra was not her first preference when it came to dressing. She applied a matching shade to her lips, pulled on a pair of black thigh top stockings and scraped her hair back into a high bun. Party or no, she had no intention of looking approachable. She was not there to have fun.  
‘Miss Di Breve,’ Tony swept past her placing a drink he knew she wouldn’t touch in her hand ‘you’re looking severe as always.’  
‘Thank you Mr Stark,’ she said with equal sincerity.  
‘Try to enjoy yourself tonight,’ he cut her off as she opened her mouth ‘you have to do what I tell you. At least try. Or I’ll fire you’  
‘I work for Pepper, Tony. You can’t fire me’  
He made to step past her before doubling back.  
‘On the topic of doing what I tell you,’  
‘Mhmhm?’  
His expression grew serious, making direct eye contact.  
‘You book in your counselling appointment. I don’t want to hear a word from Dr. Schreznic about you rescheduling again. Or I will fire you’ she softened.  
‘Yes sir,’  
‘Good. Cheers’ He tapped her glass so hard she thought it might shatter before floating away and disappearing into a crowd of people, headed by a bemused looking Colonel Rhodes. She knew the look well enough. Tony had the ability to inspire it in countless people.  
As with most of these events, Bobby found herself in Maria Hill’s company more than anyone else. The two women shared a lot in common, the least of which was the comfort in sustained silences. More often than not, Bobby knew that Maria’s ethos was also work before play, even in the veritable playground of Stark’s penthouse.  
‘I heard what happened.’  
They weren’t facing at each other; standing in the quietest corner by the bar.  
‘If you’re about to apologise, don’t. You don’t have to’  
‘What were you doing on the base in the first place?’  
Maria’s tone was probing without being accusatory. Typical.  
‘Would you believe me if I said I was visiting a friend?’  
Bobby knew better than to make eye contact with the agent. Her job notwithstanding, Hill was no fool. She scoffed and turned to Bobby.  
‘Stark’ they both said in unison with the same degree of resignation.  
‘Speak of the devil…’  
He popped up from behind the bar, placing two filled glasses in front of them. On reflex, Bobby moved the glass from in front of her to the passing waiter’s tray as Tony leaned on the counter.  
‘Hey Bobby, can you do me a favour and go find Rogers? I found Banner and Nat in what I won’t say was a compromising position,’ he raised his eyebrows ‘but I have a bet with Thor and I need Rogers participation before I’m allowed to rule Asgard.’  
‘He’s not here?’  
She asked blandly. The last errand she’d been sent on had landed her in a hostage situation.  
‘Where’s your PA, Stark? Can’t you send him? I’m too busy trying to have fun as I was instructed.’  
He jutted a finger out past the three of them to where the young man was fruitlessly flirting with Thor, who seemed more than happy to converse with him without, she hazarded a guess, being aware of his full intention.  
Maria tilted her head in sympathy. Bobby sighed.  
‘And I was just starting to have a nice time too.’

Steve had indeed been at the party and enjoying himself no less while Thor passed around Asgardian mead. He would never have considered himself a coward if not for the trapped feeling seizing his gut when his eyes fell on a familiar figure. She was here.  
Ultimately he knew it was shame that had him pleading the need for fresh air. He couldn’t bear the thought of her knowing eyes judging him from across a room full of people. What if she wasn’t the only one who could see it? What if it was written all over him, a black ink spot in so much milk? As politely as possible, he excused himself from the conversation he was having with Bruce. Of any of his friends, he knew that Banner would be the only one who could possibly empathise with his plight.  
She didn’t seem overly interested with any of the party games or conversations happening around her, instead standing closely with Maria, a guarded look on her face and her body like sin in that dress. How he wanted to take the dip in the back of that dress in both hands and rip it clean in two so she was exposed in front of everyone… Steve rubbed a hand over his face. He needed to get out of there.  
A tipsy couple was standing by the elevator, being entirely too amorous with one another for Steve’s current state. One of the women caught his eye and winked at him as her partner nuzzled into her neck. He couldn’t take this. Not now. He’d be willing to clear a flight of stairs and take the lift to his room from the floor below if it meant he could be alone. He’d probably return later into the night once he’d had some time to calm down and given her a chance to leave.  
He stared at his feet trying to get his breathing under control as he exited onto the clearing of the lower level. The couple should have had enough time to get themselves into a private car. Maybe he should just walk the 60 floors down to his room he thought idly as he pushed the button. The elevator bell sounded drawing his attention to the opening doors. And the infuriating woman behind them.

Bobby allowed herself a small smile at the couple waiting on the landing, that obviously couldn’t wait until they were alone before continuing with their evening plans. She was however, willing to wait for the next elevator if it meant she could travel unimpeded; it was a long way down from the top of Stark tower. The couple glanced at her as they slid past the doors, happily letting them close as she waved them onwards. At least she wouldn’t have to bear the unconscionable sound of them sucking on each other’s necks. Though she had never had cause to visit Steve’s room, nor that of any of the Avengers for that matter, she knew off by heart where each of them slept, both in and out of the tower. Although, she would hazard a guess that Natasha had a few tricks up her sleeve, which meant she wouldn’t be found if she didn’t want to. She hadn’t seen Steve since their little incident (as she had come to think of it); the moment that she had stumbled upon his darker nature. Perhaps he was both the legend and the monster she had seen flash behind his eyes, but that beast was true enough, even if the Captain might not be. She supposed he could be both. She’d had to learn to juggle them well enough; she wasn’t arrogant enough to think that she was the only one who could. There was a knot tight with stress between her shoulder blades that resisted her attempts to roll out the tension. What she wouldn’t give at that very moment to give up responsibility. She knew she was capable of having fun. Under any other circumstances when she was off the clock, she could very well be the life of the party, she supposed, if she tried. Bobby laughed out loud at that thought. Sure, she knew how to have fun and let loose, give up control certainly, but the life of the party she was not. She rolled her shoulders again. Maybe she should make that counselling session a priority. That was her last thought before the elevator paused, sounding gently as the doors slid open. All thoughts turned to that of the Good Captain as he stood before her, in that blue shirt that fitted him so well, the horror on his face that she had grown accustomed to and come to savour.  
He paused as though he were weighing the consequences of waiting for the next car. But they both knew he would never be so rude.  
‘Good evening, Captain.’  
She just managed to curb the surprise in her tone. He kept his eyes ahead, a curt nod in her direction as he stepped inside.  
‘Miss Di Breve’  
‘Not enjoying the party tonight?’  
‘It’s a little crowded for my tastes’  
She should say something she knew. Ask him to at least pay cursory attention to Stark to keep him happy instead of taking this now pointless elevator. She couldn’t, the prospect of prodding the golden boy was too tempting to resist.  
‘Why aren’t you there? You’re certainly dressed for it.’ He asked  
Her head quirked. That was almost a compliment.  
‘I was actually on my way to find you,’ She couldn’t help the satisfaction at the nervous expression furrowing his brow ‘but here you’ve saved me the trouble’  
‘Me?’  
She nodded slowly, a grin curving her burgundy lips. Steve couldn’t help himself as he watched in anticipation to see how her mouth stretched into it. He had never seen her smile before.  
‘Say,’ she started lowly ‘you wouldn’t be avoiding me, would you Captain?’  
‘Why would I do that?’  
The elevator seemed suspended on its decent, keeping the newly formed and delicate truce between its inhabitants safe from the outside world.  
‘Maybe because I’m the only one who knows.’  
He shouldn’t take the bait. He knew that. He couldn’t help himself. She knew that too.  
‘Knows what?’  
She took a step towards him  
‘What you really are.’  
He shook his head slightly, physically trying to remain unaffected by her words.  
‘I don’t know what you’re talking ab-’  
‘-You a monster Captain-?’  
‘-No’  
He turned sharply towards her, trying to force as much authority into his voice as possible. He wasn’t a monster. He would never hurt her. Even if she were begging him for it? He didn’t physically shake the thought free as much as he wanted to. He couldn’t let her see just how precisely she’d guessed.  
‘You sure about that?’  
Jesus, why did he feel like she could hear his goddamn thoughts?  
They couldn’t even feel the lift moving beneath their feet anymore.  
‘Stop.’  
He warned her low in his throat. She took another step forward, emboldened by the desire she could see in his white knuckled fist, the increasing rise and fall of his chest in that delicious shirt.  
‘Why don’t you make me,’ she was almost touching him she was so close, ‘Captain?’  
Fuck. She was openly provoking him. Even though he knew that, he never was able to stop himself from rising to a challenge. His title had slipped so bitingly from between her soft lips; an insult if he had ever heard one. He snapped. Taking one sure step towards her, his hand closed around her neck pushing her against the wall of the elevator hard enough that her head rebounded off the surface.  
‘You…’ he bit out between clenched teeth, accusing, ‘is this what you want?’ Bobby could feel her cunt throb the second he enclosed her neck in his fist. Seeing him up close, his anger contorting his mouth, his pupils wide with lust, had a bark of triumphant laughter threatening to erupt from her.  
‘Yes’ she breathed honestly. Whatever he was expecting from her, that was not it. Steve recognised the signs coursing through her that mirrored his own. Her nipples were stiff beneath the fabric of that damn dress. His nostrils flared with the unmistakable scent of…oh god she was wet. But she hated him, didn’t she? Supposedly for the fact that he didn’t get angry, that he hadn’t shown his dark side, and that made him unpredictable, uncontrollable. Whether or not she still wanted to, she was about to find out just how dark he could be. Was there anything he would risk this opportunity for? No, he decided, there wasn’t.  
‘Open your mouth’  
The shock of his request was plain on her face  
‘Is that an order Captain?’  
His hand tightened around her neck. She squirmed, her nipples brushing against the arm holding her. His gaze darted down to them, imagining rolling them between his teeth until she yelped. Steve saw the flicker of excitement, the uncertainty of her parted lips, and sank the tips of his fingers into the side of her neck; a caution.  
‘Open. Your. Mouth.’  
A sound filled with longing left her throat, quiet though it was. She complied letting her lower jaw hang open until it brushed the skin of his hand where he still held her fast. His heart rate increased, suddenly finding the elevator claustrophobic. They were almost on his floor.  
‘Stick out your tongue’ he said gruffly, arousal tightening his voice ‘I want to see how deep your throat is.’  
She complied, the tip unconsciously curling to flick at his skin, so close as it was.  
‘Good girl’ he breathed ‘I bet you could take my whole cock with that mouth of yours’  
His other hand snaked around her until it was wrapping her hair in his clasp. He jerked her head back sharply.  
‘You’re coming with me’ her eyes widened as she nodded ‘and I’m going to find out.’ Her pride wouldn’t allow the moan tripping over itself at the entrance of her mouth.  
‘And I’m not going to go easy. Do you understand?’  
He had her. They both knew it.  
‘Yes, Captain.’  
The doors opened.

The blood in his veins had been replaced with napalm, singeing his nerve endings as he let her submission roll through him. He was completely hard now, the pressure uncomfortable as he strained against his fly. She hadn’t even touched him, just looked at him with those big dark eyes, acceptance and something akin to fear dancing expertly with one another in their depths. They had to get out of this elevator before the doors closed on them.  
‘Ahem,’  
Steve stepped backwards dropping his hands as she nearly jumped right out of her skin, both of their eyes widening in surprise at being caught. Although not in the midst of an illicit act per se, the Good Captain holding her against the wall, one hand wrapped around her throat, the other in her hair, Bobby hazarded a guess they looked questionable to say the absolute least. Steve unceremoniously grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the doors, past the accidental intruder who raised his eyebrows in awkward greeting, no doubt being confronted with how noticeably aroused the lift occupants had been in their solitude. Under any other circumstances she would never have been caught in a compromising situation of any kind, Captain or no Captain, but as he pulled her roughly down the floor towards his room, she felt the need for control ebbing away, the promise of his strong hands allowing her to put her faith in them, in him. What did she have to worry about or answer for when she was no longer the one calling the shots?  
He pulled her inside and shut the door firmly, the expression on his face predatory as he turned to her.  
‘You want to know what kind of monster I am?’ He stepped toward her on his emphasis. She didn’t mean to but she was matching him step for step as she backed away. It didn’t go unnoticed. Steve chuckled darkly.  
‘I don’t think you do.’  
He was taking up more space than before, his chest expanding as his face darkened. The noticeable tent in his pants kept drawing her attention and he watched in absolute pleasure as the tip of her pink tongue darted out to lick at her top lip. Oh so it’s like that? There was a rumble in his chest as he imagined sliding his stiff cock between those deep red lips. Oh he would, in time. There would be plenty of time. He wanted her out of that damnable dress first. He had walked her so far into his room that her legs had hit the edge of his bed, trapping her. Her brought his hand under her chin, turning her head upwards. She gasped.  
‘Listen very carefully,’ his voice was gruff, unrecognisable ‘you have to tell me if you want me to stop. Do you understand?’  
She nodded once.  
‘Say it,’ his fingers unconsciously tightened ‘what do you say?’  
He needed to hear her say it. He needed to know that she could tell him to stop. There had to be certainty that she could vocalise her needs else he would take and take from her until she was completely ruined, and if that’s not what she wanted then she needed to be able to tell him. Trusting himself wasn’t an option otherwise.  
‘Red.’  
It was short and sweet, her breath ghosting over his hand.  
‘Good’  
His breathing was increasing, becoming heavier with the promise of her obedience. Steve stepped back, looking her up and down; from that high bun that was already falling out around her shoulders from his rough treatment, to her nipples, still calling out to him beneath her dress, down to her stocking clad legs and a pair of what she would have called ‘don’t fuck with me heels’ but seeing her in them had the opposite effect on him. And then there was her fucking mouth, lush and slack in anticipation, covered in that magnificent shade of maroon. It was so perfectly applied, sloping gently with the curve in her cupid’s bow; he couldn’t allow that.  
His hand came up almost touching her face, hesitating a breath’s surface away from her skin before he gave in, finally allowing himself to be consumed with the monster. The flat surface of his thumb dragged crudely through her lipstick until it was smeared in a jagged line at the opposing corner of her mouth. She hadn’t been expecting that. The Good Captain already looked wrecked as she watched his eyes dart to the mess he’d made, his chest constricting. He wanted to destroy her. Bobby was more excited than she would ever have reasonably admitted.  
‘Stunning’ he whispered, so quietly she wondered if he’d even intended for her to hear.  
‘Your hair.’ He said gruffly. She didn’t need further instructions before she reached up pulling the pins out until it fell in uneven waves down her back.  
‘Ponytail.’ His voice was becoming more strained, as if coming out against the air from a rapidly passing train. Her hands worked quickly, pulling her hair high up on her head before snapping the tie in place. It was all but a second’s pause as she fought the urge to smooth out the obvious imperfections. That’s not what she was here for and by the look on the Good Captain’s face, neither was he. He tilted his head at her dismissively as he strode to an armchair to her left. His room was quite large and sparsely decorated but that armchair looked terribly comfortable. He settled in leaning back before resting both hands on either side, his legs falling open. He would have been the picture of disinterest if not for his obvious arousal still straining in his jeans.  
The slick heat gathering between her legs was becoming harder to ignore, rivalled only by the almost painful throbbing at her epicentre. The air was charged as they stared at one another, their power dynamic definitively reversed as he for once, said nothing and she ached to hear him give her another instruction. He took pity; he had to for his own sake as well as hers.  
‘Undress.’  
He bit it out at her, a man pushed beyond the realm of consideration for anything other than immediacy. She did so, her dress pooling effortlessly at her feet before she stepped out of it. Steve watched gratified as he saw how unsteadily she sidestepped the material as she left it in a pile on the floor. He didn’t expect that unseating this woman and her particular brand of power would be so satisfying. How could she be doing this to him already? He hadn’t even touched her yet. A force to be reckoned with if he ever knew one. Bobby hooked her fingers into the fabric at her hips before dragging it slowly down her thighs, not breaking eye contact. Steve’s fingers twitched as he saw just how slick she was, his jaw clenching. The light caught where it coated her so prettily between her thighs. What was she doing to him? Her scent was pervasive, filling his head and causing his eyelids to flutter. Gods give him strength. So lost was he in his haze that he almost didn’t stop her as she started to roll one perfect stocking down her leg.  
‘No,’ she stopped immediately. What a good girl. ‘Those stay on,’ his eyes flicked downwards ‘the shoes too.’  
He couldn’t help the way his fingers tightened against the chair, the fabric audibly straining beneath them. You couldn’t blame the man; she was standing there like a fucking siren, pert chest jutted out, her weight on one hip so the other slanted trailing the eyes down to those legs…  
‘C’mere,’  
she took a step forward  
‘no’ he said firmly.  
Again she paused  
‘on your knees’ he growled.  
Her lips parted, her exhales full and mirroring the way her peaked nipples rose and fell on her heavy breasts. There might not have been anything he could say to her in that moment that she wouldn’t have done. It was like liquid, the way she sank to her knees to begin her crawl. There were better men than he that Steve was sure didn’t deserve such a sight. Her hair fell over her shoulder as she moved, swaying back and forth over her breast with her movements. If it had taken all night for her to reach him, he would’ve been a happy man. As it stood, Bobby relished the harsh scrape against her knees and the absolutely vicious look on the Good Captain’s face as she neared him. Would he make her climb atop and ride them both into oblivion? Perhaps he would simply watch from his vantage point as he discovered exactly how deep her throat was. Whatever he was thinking, Bobby wanted nothing more than to hear it in his velvety baritone, broken with his own desire. If Steve thought he was in trouble with her statue like pose at his bed, then he didn’t know what to term her cheetah-like movements as she came to rest between his legs. The need to be completely inside her anywhere was becoming overwhelming. No, he would wait. He would make her wait. Damn her. How did she still have such a pull over him bared and on her knees in front of him like that? How could he ever hope to break a woman like that? He only hoped she could forgive him when he tried. She rested back on her haunches barely brushing his thighs as she came to rest between his knees. Her eyes fell again to his aching cock, still separated by a few barriers. Instinctively she reached for him, pressing the heel of her palm into the bulge. Steve sucked the air in through his teeth sharply at the contact; almost relieving the pressure but not quite, and then drew back his hand and slapped her across her left cheek. It was barely a sting, a warning more than anything else, but the shock had its desired effect. Her veneer faltered the tiniest fraction, indignation almost settling comfortably on her face before it was overcome with an unbridled need.  
‘You don’t touch unless you’re told.’  
There was a trace of lipstick across his fingers, he rubbed it idly with his thumb, the colour tingeing them a dark red. It was smooth, almost slippery between them. She nodded. He needed more than that.  
‘Do you understand me?’  
‘Yes’ delight shaped her mouth as she answered  
‘Yes, what?’  
A beat.  
‘Yes, Captain.’  
‘Fuck’  
How was he supposed to resist her when she sounded like that; all obedient and wanton and eagre to please him? He gripped her ponytail, jerking her head with it.  
‘Stand up,’ she rose with his help until his hand left her hair, returning to the armrest ‘turn around.’  
One step, two. She was facing away from him. Even though she could sense his next words it was no less gratifying as she heard them drip from his lips.  
‘Bend over,’ she could hear friction over denim, ‘and grip your ankles’. He was rubbing himself, the barest of actions to provide any kind of relief. Bobby was so wet she thought she might drip down her own legs if she bent in half as he wanted. She would though, for him she would. Helpless against her own need to watch him watching her, she looked over her shoulder as she slowly leaned forward, running each hand down the back of her arrow straight legs.  
Steve’s eyes narrowed. Fuck he could almost taste how wet she was, glistening in the low light. Her cunt was a stunning shade darker than the rest of her, inviting. She could feel him staring right through her, right up until his eyes sharply found hers, warning clear in their darkness. Don’t move. The anticipation was killing her. What if she moved just a little bit? Just enough so he needed to reprimand her again, punish her the tiniest bit? His hand still rubbed slowly over himself. She wanted to see his cock. She wanted to watch him stroke it as he looked at her, slick and folded in half for his viewing pleasure. He said nothing. The silence challenged her.  
‘Please.’ It was a whisper.  
‘What was that?’ he asked, like she was a disobedient child muttering under her breath. The satisfaction he took out of the fact she broke first was palpable.  
‘Please, Captain.’  
He stood, slowly, threateningly.  
‘What?’  
He was goading her. Bobby stayed still, watching him approach over the curve of her hip.  
‘What do you want?’ He stopped close behind her but not yet touching ‘want me to let you touch yourself?’  
Her fingers slipping inside her cunt until her knuckles disappeared  
He closed his eyes, willing the image to disappear lest it overcame him and he fucked her right here with her bracing herself on the floor. Tracing the perfect curve of her ass and how lusciously she was dripping for him he asked her again  
‘Want me to touch you?’  
Bobby was ashamed of herself for the tight keening coming out of her throat in response. His gaze flicked to her face, surprised that she allowed such a sound to pass her lips. He was pushing her over the edge and that excited him more than anything. His fingers twitched with his restraint. He couldn’t hold back any more. A hand poised a few inches away from her body, the sharp crack of flesh hitting flesh as it made contact, her yelp echoing off the back of it as she lurched forward with the force; beautiful. The only sound in the aftermath was of their panting.  
‘What do you say?’  
Steve couldn’t even recognise his own voice  
‘Thank you.’  
Hers was small, breathy.  
He slapped her again, leaving a pleasing red handprint on her skin.  
She didn’t need to be prompted twice.  
‘Thank you.’  
Steve wedged a boot between her open legs and slid them even wider apart, his left hand firmly pressing on the small of her back until her chest almost touched her knees, offering up her exquisitely swollen cunt to him. He drew his hand back a third time, this time bringing more force on its decent and angling it to catch her squarely over her clit. She shrieked, her knees buckling. A strong warm hand came around the front of her hips to hold her in place as her legs trembled. Jesus Christ, he had never seen anything so lovely.  
‘Thank you’  
it was a sob, broken and shaky. She had come, hard and unsuspecting against the harsh touch of his hand, the sting of his fingers. He was painfully hard now.  
‘Shhh’  
He rubbed her lower back, relishing the tremors that travelled through her skin into his fingertips. They travelled lower, dipping over the swell of her ass and finally trailing the overwhelming wetness underneath.  
‘Such a good girl’  
He whispered as he pushed three fingers inside her without preamble. Her body jerked at the intrusion but her hips pushed backwards into him reflexively. Bobby couldn’t breathe. His fingers were so rough, so thick inside her, scissoring back and forth without giving her time to adjust. He fucked her with his hand, slow, deep and hard. Steve didn’t give her any time to recover from her last orgasm, still feeling the fluttering of her walls around his fingers as he drove in and out of her in a relentless rhythm.  
‘You came so good for me,’ her heels scraped against the floor with the force of his movements in her body ‘you’re going to do it again’  
She mumbled unintelligibly, racked with the lack of air in her current position and the intensity of her climax.  
‘What was that?’  
Steve asked, increasing his pace. The sound of his hand moving over her slick skin rivalled that of his laboured breathing. He was merciless, forcing her to take a fourth finger as she clenched around him.  
Bobby let out a long drawn out moan.  
‘I can’t.’  
His hand slowed almost to a complete stop. He pressed into her, feeling the little button of flesh that had her legs shaking again.  
‘You will come for me again,’ a thumb found her clit, rubbing slow deliberate circles as he massaged her from the inside out ‘do you understand me?’  
Bobby was gasping now. She was close. His hand was drenched in her arousal. It was in his head, in his blood. He wanted it from her and he wanted it right now. He got greedy. His left hand moved to her ponytail, jerking it back so she was barely supporting her weight by her hands on her thighs. One hand holding her by her hair, the other in her abused cunt, taking in the phenomenal curve of her back, he closed her between his fingers, pressing down on her clit hard.  
Her cry this time was silent as the air ripped from her lungs but he felt it sure enough. She was milking him ruthlessly as though in retaliation for how violently he had made her come. Her shoes were slipping. She couldn’t hold herself up in the aftershock.  
Steve wasted no time in dropping to his knees behind her and burying his face where his fingers had just been; both hands supporting her hips, her own slick dripping down her skin as his fingers spanned her thighs trying to find purchase enough to hold her upright.  
‘Oh fuck!’  
Bobby was having trouble keeping track of which direction was up as he started a fresh assault with his tongue. She was too sensitive, her vision blurred, her legs jelly. She couldn’t tell the difference between his lips, teeth and tongue as he dove into her, drinking her in. He was biting her, kissing her, tonguing her as though his life depended on it. All he could hear above the rushing of blood in his own ears was the steady stream of pleas falling from her lips.  
‘Please, please, please, please…’  
He hazarded a guess that if he had stopped to ask her what she was begging for she wouldn’t have been able to articulate it, she was so far gone. No more than he was. He wanted to draw another orgasm out of her, make her come until she didn’t know her own name. He didn’t know just how close to that he already was.  
‘Steve, please’  
If his hearing had been what it was before the war, he would have missed it. He paused.  
‘You want a break?’  
He felt more than saw her nod. Getting quickly to his feet he scooped her up. He didn’t trust her to walk anywhere at this point. He dropped her on the edge of the bed before turning her over and pulling her by her thighs until her hips rested off the edge, flush up against him. He hooked his hands under her knees and folded them over her chest until they were level with her shoulders. She whimpered.  
‘You want a break?’ He asked again  
‘Yes, Captain.’  
‘No.’  
He smirked before dropping once again to his knees to devour her. Bobby brought a hand to her mouth trying to muffle her shattered moans. The onslaught against her swollen sex ceased.  
‘No’ the word was harsh and left no room for question ‘I want to hear you scream.’  
Neither broke eye contact.  
‘Do you understand?’  
‘Yes, Captain’  
Bobby was grateful as he returned to her cunt, this time gently, carefully, as though scared she might spook. His lips were soft against her clit as his tongue smoothed over it again and again. In truth it was not a hard task to make noise. There was the belated realisation that the low keening sound that was ringing in her ears was coming from her own mouth. Her hands were floundering without purchase, finally fisting in the sheets beside her. She so desperately wanted to grip his hair, but he had told her not to touch and she did so want to be good for her Captain. His lips were moving lower, his tongue pushing at her entrance, drinking her in.  
If he kept worshipping her like that then she was going to come for him again. Something he undoubtedly knew.  
She was mumbling, saying things she guessed didn’t make sense if anyone cared to listen, but if the way his closed his lips over her clit and sucked was any indication, then he liked it. The sensation was too much. She was too sensitive. This next orgasm would hurt with how empty she was she knew, and yet she was awaiting it with burgeoning excitement. He wanted her to come again. She wanted to be good for him. But it was too much.  
‘Oh fuck, no, no. I-I…’  
Without realising it her hands had moved in her urgency to brush at his head. Steve ground his hips into the bed, his own arousal becoming impossible to discount at the action. He should reprimand her for touching when he said she wasn’t allowed but he would rather have died than interrupt the sweet sounds she was making.  
‘Steve…’  
It was pleading, strained and high pitched. He moved two of his fingers to her entrance teasing her as he set to work rolling her clit between his lips and tongue. As he let go of her legs they came to rest on his shoulders, the feeling of her stocking brushing his cheek. He was surprised he hadn’t come from this alone; her teetering on the edge, her heels in the periphery of his vision, the sounds of her breaking apart beneath him filling the air.  
Two fingers finally slid all the way inside her, curling upwards into that soft button of flesh that had her pulling brashly on his hair as she shouted his name.  
That’s it. He couldn’t wait any more. He ripped his shirt open with one hand, not willing to let her go completely yet. Needing both hands for his jeans, he straightened, desperately trying to open them as quickly as possible. She made such a pretty picture; her eyes glassy, heavy lidded and unfocused, her body completely limp and a striking flush spreading from her belly all the way up to her cheeks. Their eyes met, and if Steve had any flickering worries about her not enjoying herself, the satisfactory smile that curved her lips dropped an anvil squarely on top of them. The give in his jeans was welcome but not enough. Nothing would be enough until he was sheathed in her hot, waiting body. He fell on top of her, his need making him frantic, his last vestiges of control keeping him sane as he spoke  
‘Do you need me to put anything on?’  
She had managed to shake her head once before he slid in, penetrating her in one deep stroke. He revelled in her sharp intake of breath. She was hot, so hot, soft and smooth around his cock. Steve kept pushing until he bottomed out, hitting her cervix, that wicked point where she couldn’t tell in her current state if it was pleasure or pain. Her cunt was sore, but finally being fulfilled after what felt like hours of stringing her body as tightly as he had, meant she was only thankful.  
Looking down at her, pliant and wanting beneath him, he couldn’t help the need to see her splayed like she was before for him. Once again, he pulled her knees up to her shoulders, his weight pushing them into the mattress.  
His hips were bruising, slapping against her every time they came down, his blunt cock head hitting that sweet spot with each thrust. Steve slowed his pace, remembering how she had screamed for him when he had started gently, only to speed up. He wanted to hear that again. Please god if he died right now, just let him hear that once more. He withdrew, resting his tip barely inside her. They both knew what was coming, but she shrieked all the same as he slid in to the hilt, winding her.  
‘Oh god,’ she whimpered ‘it’s too much.’  
‘Too much?’ He repeated breathlessly, drawing out of her again ‘what is?’  
His hands moved to her hips allowing her legs to fall over his elbows. This time he pulled her down as he thrust up sharply. She screamed.  
‘This?’ He asked smugly as he thrust inside her again. She couldn’t answer, too focused on trying to get air into her lungs. Her brow was furrowed, her mouth open and eyes screwed tight shut. So fucking beautiful.  
‘Is this,’ he bucked into her ‘too much?’ repeated the action.  
She nodded, almost sobbing.  
His palms smoothed a path up her body, over her breasts, until they rested on her shoulders, fingers curling into an unforgiving grip around them. He could move her whole body with ease like this. Steve yanked her down in one short sharp pull, her torso convulsing with his force as he bottomed out again, his cockhead bruising her cervix.  
‘What about this?’  
‘Yes Captain!’  
He quickened his pace, fucking her brutally as she howled. Bobby felt like she was being torn apart at the seams, his strong hands ripping her cleanly in two. She didn’t want to come again, but she didn’t want him to stop either. That familiar ache was building in her belly. He was going to wring another out of her, and she wasn’t completely sure that she would survive.  
‘Fuck, I-I’m coming-’  
She barely got the words out before he felt her clenching sweetly around him, her nails sinking into his forearms in an attempt to anchor herself. He never faltered, maintaining his merciless speed, fucking her through it.  
‘Good girl,’  
He ground out. He wasn’t going to last much longer either. He didn’t want to come yet. Not yet. But how could he not when she looked like that and her whole body was undulating around him, welcoming him? He couldn’t afford to ride it out with her or he wasn’t going to make it. Steve pulled out quickly, gripping the head of his cock tight in an effort to delay his own climax.  
‘Such a good girl,’ he smoothed a hand over her hip reassuringly ‘you come so fucking good for me.’  
Bobby shuddered at the sensation, her cunt too battered to register the orgasm as only pleasure.  
‘Such a good girl. So good…’  
He was still whispering worshipfully stroking her hip. Bobby opened her eyes once her breathing had slowed down enough to let her focus. She would have felt naked under such an intense gaze under other circumstances, with someone who wasn’t Steve, but all she felt as he continued to tell her how good she was, how sweet she tasted, was completely deified. It was only when her gaze travelled down over the hair on his chest, following the trail down his stomach and lower to his swollen, glistening cock did she see how tightly he was gripping it between his thumb and forefinger. Her pride swelled reflexively. Not as in control as he had hoped it would seem. She smoothed a hand up his forearm, hoping she would be reprimanded for the action.  
‘Are you going to let me take care of you Captain?’  
He was too broken at the prospect to remember his previous directive not to touch. She wasn’t disappointed though. His eyebrows drew together, his fingers tightening if possible. She didn’t know what war he was fighting with himself but she wished he could overlook it for the night. He had been so completely absorbed, only now did he see the faint marks he’d left on her hips and her shoulders. He knew he should feel guilty, ashamed, disgusted with himself but he couldn’t deny as she lay there with that gleaming smile, that she looked absolutely magnificent. She was trembling, her glowing skin was marred with the evidence of his need for her and he couldn’t tamper the rising arousal at seeing her just so. She wasn’t waiting for permission anymore. Bobby sat upright, using both hands in her shaky state and pushing him a step backwards. Steve was still silent. She slithered to her knees in front of him, pulling his hand away so his cock jutted directly towards her mouth.  
‘Please Captain?’  
She prompted, her tongue darting out to flick at his tip. Steve exhaled sharply as she made contact, tasting herself on him. For further encouragement, she curled both hands around his wrists and brought them slowly to rest around the base of her ponytail. There was an undeniable twinge of pride as she saw him throb in front of her face, his cock jerking upwards at the action. Oh yes, he wanted this.  
‘Show me.’  
He said gruffly.  
She wet her top lip with her tongue just to watch his eyes follow the movement. This was too much fun. She flattened her tongue under his cockhead, resting him there as she brought her head forward agonisingly slow. It was so much harder to breathe, Steve realised. No matter how deeply he tried to draw breath, he could barely get out a shallow huff. Bobby could feel the tips of his fingers curling against her skull, gripping her hair tighter and pulling her closer to him in the process, her top lip finally closing around his tip. Her tongue swirled around him, her lips vacuum tight. To her absolute pleasure, she watched a look of what could almost be considered pain cross the Captain’s face as his brows drew together. The muscle in his jaw was working over time with his struggle for control. She bobbed her head, barely moving him in and out of her mouth while her lips hooked around and over his head and back again, unrelenting against where she could tell he was most sensitive. He let out a short exclamation, pulling her completely off him with a wet pop.  
There was that familiar challenge in her eyes. Steve shook his head slowly, his lips curving into a knowing grin. This woman was dangerous. He cocked his head, his face turning smug.  
‘Enjoying yourself?’  
She nodded, breaking eye contact only to glance down at him, still so tantalisingly close to her mouth. He chuckled and jerked sharply on her ponytail so her head tilted upwards. She could feel her excitement pooling low in her belly as she saw the dark expression contort his features.  
‘Open your mouth.’  
She did as she was told  
‘Good girl. Now you’re going to put your hands behind your back,’ his eyes flicked to her hands resting demurely on both her thighs ‘and I’m going to explore the inside of this beautiful throat,’ his right hand curves loosely around her neck ‘do you understand?’  
‘Yes.’  
Her mouth fell back open in waiting  
‘Yes, what?  
‘Yes, Captain’  
Bobby slowly brought both hands behind her, clasping them at the wrist, her mouth still open and waiting.  
‘Let’s wet you up, good girl.’  
With a look of approval on his face he bends down further, drawing his cheeks in. Steve spits in her mouth sharply as she sits, letting it mingle with her own saliva in anticipation and he swears he can feel the same bubbles now lining her tongue boiling in his blood. She’s shocked. The action is degrading, demeaning, and she loves it. He straightens again bringing both hands to the back of her head, his spit gathering on the pink of her mouth, his grip vice-like and unquestioningly in control. Bobby’s pulse was thrumming, the anticipation stringing her tight as a bow.  
‘If it’s too much, then push against me.’  
She nods impatiently.  
‘Take a deep breath’.  
It comes out almost a whisper. She does. His movements weren’t fast, but they were deliberate, unyielding. He had made it just past her tongue the first time she gagged. Still he pushed on. Steve hit her tonsils, temporarily barring him from entering her throat. She felt his hands on her head, tilting it gently from side to side as he nudged past them. There was a last tug of resistance as she gagged again and then he was in her throat. He swore, the muscles in her neck massaging him in a glove while she attempted to swallow around him. Still he pushed further. He was in her neck now, cutting off her air, unbearably tight and wanting nothing more than for her to see how stunning she was, tears gathering on her eyelashes, her eyes screwing shut in an effort to keep her hands still, her lips stretched wide around his girth. Steve wondered if this was what heaven felt like. Or love. Or death. He held himself there, lodged snugly in her throat while she convulsed on her knees, her torso wracked with intermittent spasms.  
‘Open your eyes. Look at me.’  
He said lowly. She did. Straight at him. One hand dropping to the base of her skull, the other pulling her in from her ponytail, he pushed his final length into her, her nose pressing up against his groin as she swallows him whole. He swore again, his head falling back to the ceiling.  
‘Oh my fucking god.’  
Steve spoke through gritted teeth, pulling her slowly off his length and relishing every last inch of her velvet mouth. Bobby gasped for air as she finally came up, saliva coating her bottom lip and chin.  
‘You are so fuckin’ beautiful, you know that?’  
She gulped air into her starved lungs, smiling at him through watery lashes. He wished she could see herself as he did. Hair a mess, lipstick long ruined, mascara running down her cheeks, and that beaming proud smile that split her face in half. Never had he seen anything more lovely. If he could draw her, it would be just as she was now; no severe lines, no pretence, just the desire to please.  
‘Again?’  
His voice is strained. She may be the one on her knees but there was no question who was at worship as he felt her bore through his soul with those piercing eyes.  
‘Please, sir.’  
She nods earnestly licking her lips as he tries desperately to steel his resolve.  
‘I’m gonna count to ten now. Can you hold on for me that long, doll?’  
She’s nodding enthusiastically already inching forward but he holds her fast. He jerks her hair in warning.  
‘I can’t hear you.’  
‘Yes, yes Captain. Please Captain’  
He’s panting now, the excitement making him feel like he’s run a marathon and there’s the split second he forgives himself for what he’s about to do to her when he feels her tongue on him again. He’s not gentle this time when she pauses around his girth, the tight enclosure to her throat slowing him down. She’d slid almost to the hilt, stretching her lips in an effort to dive down on him.  
‘Come on doll, open your throat for me.’  
He’s flexing his hips gently, coaxing her to swallow more, more. The sensation of suddenly hitting the back of her throat winds him.  
‘Stick your tongue out. Be a good girl, lemme see. Come on, stick out your tongue.’  
She’s fighting to keep herself still, fighting the urge to push him away and fill her lungs with needed air. But he’s imploring her, praying she can hold on long enough for him to reach that euphoria he knows is just past where he now rests in her mouth. She braces her hands behind her in an effort to anchor herself and presses her tongue forward until she hears him whimper above her, broken.  
He gathers himself, and her ponytail in his hand, and pushes and pushes until she gives way, diving forward until he’s balls deep.  
‘Oh that’s it,’ he groans ‘One…’  
He grits it out, pulling back an inch. He’s doesn’t go slow when he shoves forward, holding her head in place, forearms taut with the glimmer in the back of his head to keep his wits enough not to hurt her.  
‘Two…’  
He’s not going to make it to ten. Steve can see it clearly reflected back to him in the tears rolling down her cheeks, tracking streaks of mascara. She’s broken the rules, hooking her hands around the backs of his thighs and pulling herself forward every time he retreats. He can’t remember what number he’s supposed to be counting to. When he slides in this time he holds her down, watching her choke until she looks up at him, pleading with watery eyes, her palms hesitating above his thighs. He’s waiting for her to push him away. But she doesn’t. Not yet. He wonders how much she’ll take before she does.  
‘Don’t be bad.’  
He says simply before separating from her in one quick stroke, leaving her coughing and retching in his wake.  
‘I told you to put your hands behind your back.’  
She’s still coughing, wiping the spit from her mouth with the back of her hand. He’s so hard his cock is curving upwards to his navel but she’s still spluttering and heaving. Maybe he’s gone too far. His hand drops to her shoulder, caressing it.  
‘Colour?’  
He asks tenderly. She takes a few more seconds to collect herself before turning to him, her smile a little too crazed, her eyes a little too sharp.  
‘Green.’  
And her lip curls. Disgust. It licks at something dormant deep in his gut, something that’s been there for years undisturbed, something that he’s only had the means to satisfy since his transformation.  
‘So it’s like that, is it?’  
He straightens again, her ponytail a forgotten mess in his unforgiving grip.  
‘Hands.’  
Once more, she folds them behind her, this time holding each elbow in an effort to keep them there, jutting her chest out so the line of spit hanging from her chin lands above her nipple. Looking at her, Steve knows he won’t much last much longer. Not with how he’s ruining her and how gleefully she’s letting him.  
‘Open.’  
He demands, and she does, her jaw falling like a disjointed puppet’s.  
Fine, he thinks, I won’t play fair if she doesn’t want me to. Just as before, he slides in, tilting his head so he can watch her neck bulge around his girth, and her body convulse at the gag he suppresses as he holds her down.  
‘One.’  
He pulls back and he can see she thinks he’s going to pull the same trick as before. She’s never been more wrong. Steve shows her just how unpredictable he can be. He fucks her throat deeply once, then twice, not giving her a break in between.  
‘Two.’  
He’s trying to reign in his breathing when he sees realisation dawn as her eyes widen as to just what exactly he has planned for her. There’s a thick wet sound every time he passes her tonsils that ricochets around his skull playing havoc with his restraint. He pumps her again, three times in quick succession all the way from base to tip.  
‘Three.’  
But there’s no fear on her face, only challenge, triumph. He’s quickly losing control, pulling back only half way before the tempting hot velvet past her tonsils pulls him in again so she’s pressed up against him, eyes wet and nails digging into the skin of her elbows. By the time he gets to four her eyes are beginning to roll back in her head and damn this woman because he knows her pride will permit her passing out before pushing back against him.  
‘You wanna tap out?’  
He holds her down, stroking along the bulge in her neck where he can feel himself through her smooth skin. He curses again. She squeezes her eyes shut against another convulsion before opening them wide looking up at him, proud. Steve flexes into her throat fast and unforgiving, trying to push her beyond her limit. Her shoulders hunch as he feels her constrict around him, attempting to force him out.  
‘Come on. Tap out. Tap out.’  
She can hear how taxed he is, breathing harshly through his nose, his face screwed up as he fights not to finish right there and then.  
Loathe as he is to do it, he releases her, falling back a step on unsteady feet as she curls forward trying to catch her breath. There’s a sharp wet sound as he withdraws, her body obviously trying to block the relentless invasion of her gullet.  
There’s silence between them, the air charged as she looks up at him from her lashes, thick from her tears.  
‘You going to come down my throat Captain?’  
Steve scoffs, the question catching him unawares and fogging his head with the image.  
‘Is that what you want?’  
A nod.  
‘Only if you’re good. Are you gonna to be good for me?’  
‘Yes, Captain. I’m going to be so good for you.’  
‘Is that right?’  
Another nod. It won’t take long at all to give her what she wants, what they both want.  
‘Ok,’ he’s completely broken and she knows it ‘I’m not going to let up,’ he’s looking her straight in the eye hoping she takes his warning for what it is ‘so when you’ve had enough you gotta push back. Got it?’  
She notices his use of when instead of if and she can’t help but smile, letting her tongue hang out over her bottom lip in welcome. If he thought she was going to give in that easy then he had another thing coming.  
‘Take a deep breath.’  
He echoes from earlier and she does if only because she was told to. She is a good girl after all. He doesn’t bother counting; he’s too far gone. All his strength is focussed on her and watching for signs that she’s had enough while he’s still able. He’s dangerously close to a complete loss of control, and his suspicion that’s exactly what she wants terrifies him more than anything else. His left hand flattens out against her head bringing her forward while his right cups underneath her jaw, angling her neck so there’s the least resistance as he surges forward. There isn’t anything barring him this time. Steve grunts with the force of it. His fingers glide lower, again tracing the protrusion he’s making in her neck, helpless against the draw of owning her completely and doing everything in his power to make sure she won’t forget it. He holds her there, massaging his girth as he swallows him again and again as he moves. He’s sure he’s never been in more danger than this moment, the same way he’s sure he would die before trading it for anything else. His pace is steady to begin with, ensuring to pull out until his tip is resting in the ring of her lips, allowing her to inhale around him, but just as he is, as he’s always been with her, it doesn’t last. Soon he’s pistoning his hips enough only so he can feel the friction of her gagging against the head of his cock, fucking the opening of her throat mercilessly as she retches below him with the effort. She knows all she has to do is push against him and he’ll stop, but the glorious sound of his wrecked whispering above her is battling her need to breathe and the tightening in her ribs.  
‘Such a good girl, so fucking good. You’re so good for me aren’t you…’  
She knows how close he is, maybe even better than he does because she’s not about to ruin his pleasure after he’d so completely owned hers. Maybe another time, but not now.  
‘Oh fuck’  
He exhales, long and drawn out and she knows. She doesn’t care if he punishes her, she hopes that he does, but she snakes her fingers around his thighs again, pulling herself into him with quick sharp thrusts. It takes him by surprise as he changes his grasp, fisting both hands in her hair in an attempt to hold on.  
‘I’m-I’m…’  
He’s trying to warn her, but she’s holding herself steady, as deep as she can go when she feels his balls draw up against her chin and he moans loud and long. She’s curved forward almost in half with her body’s search for oxygen, wrapping herself around Steve’s bent legs to keep level with her. He’s lost, she thinks as she sees his eyes screw tight shut, his neck straining beautifully. But then he comes to himself, yanking her backwards with a force she’s not expecting as he stares into her face angling his cock towards her open mouth, gasping as she is. He paints her face, the first rope landing thick and hot across her nose and forehead. He strokes himself twice, three times, rough and fast as she feels him come across her chin, her cheek. Her lungs are on fire, her jaw sore and lax in light of her strain. And Steve is looking down at her like she’s snow in the Sahara. They’re both breathless. It’s the first time she’s felt truly relaxed in months and her chest swells with pride as she sees the shaky way he shifts his weight. Bobby takes a moment to revel in his gaze, the way he’s eating her up with his eyes as they travel over her spit-stained face and down to her breasts that are marked much the same way. He’s brushing the loose strands of hair out of her eyes and over her forehead. The gesture is surprisingly adoring. His hand falls in front of her, palm facing up, offering her everything he has, the whole world if she wants it. She accepts, allowing him to pull her to her feet, kicking off her heels once standing.  
‘Are you ok?’  
He’s husky, something like uncertainty in his eyes.  
The sound she makes is incredulous.  
‘I’m more than ok, Steve. Are you ok?’  
He huffs, his face breaking into a grin. A slight shaking of his head but the smile never leaves his face. He guides her to the bed, pushing her back until she’s lying with her head on the pillows. He hasn’t joined her though. She watches curious as he crawls over her from the edge of the bed, dropping his head to press soft kisses to both of her knees, red raw and imprinted with carpet burn, brushing his lips over them feather light before moving upwards. He’s soothing every mark he’s left on her body and she lets him, parting her legs obligingly when he reaches her centre, kissing her so tenderly over her clit before moving up her belly. She sucks in a sharp breath, sore but still hyper aware of the shock it sends right up her spine. They both become aware of the fact she’s still covered in his come when he sucks over each nipple, his tongue brushing the sticky translucence around its edge. He disappears to the edge of the bed, reaching over before returning with his previously shucked blue shirt in hand.  
‘Here.’  
He whispers, and in light of the way he’s wiping her face, as though she were spun gold, it sounds reverent. She lets him.  
‘Steve…’  
There’s a quietness that’s settled over them both, their heartbeats slowing to a tandem beat.  
‘Yeah?’  
He’s leaning over her, his face so close she wonders if he’ll breach the final barrier between them and kiss her.  
‘I…,’  
She’s never been looked at so lovingly and wonders how he’s managed to hide it all this time ‘thank you.’  
His eyes tighten the tiniest bit, his lips pursing. Maybe it’s always been written all over him and she’s just been so determined in her blindness not to see it. He’s leaning further in, his gaze dropping to her mouth. Fuck. He was going to kiss her.  
‘I should go.’  
It’s the blade that cuts through their reverie. She can see him close off to her, his face darkening and adopting the mask she’s seen on him in public.  
‘You can stay if you like.’  
And she hates the hope she can hear in his tone. She gives him an apologetic look before shifting out from underneath him and inching to the edge of the bed, reaching for her dress and shoes. She can’t stay. But how is she supposed to say it out loud when she can’t even kiss him? She can’t risk opening herself up like that. It’s a surprise that she doesn’t ignite like an ant under a magnifying glass as she walks to the ensuite, Steve’s eyes following her every step. The bathroom is just as simple as his room, almost tidy enough to look untouched. Any personal items he had might have been kept in the cabinet or drawers but she was too proud to snoop. Her eyebrows rise in shock when she finally sees herself in the mirror. Skin flushed, tracks of semen and spit coating her cheeks and chin, a striking contrast between the bare skin beneath them and the dregs of makeup left on her face, strands of hair flicked out wildly around her face, at least what wasn’t matted to her, the rest of it hanging in its tie at the nape of her neck. Her lashes were clumped together, what was left of her mascara long smudged until she more closely resembled a raccoon.  
‘Jesus Christ.’ She muttered under her breath, turning on the tap and splashing the cold water on her face. She wiped her face, her neck, her breasts, cleaning all traces of her sordid encounter. There was no way she’d be able to get through the knots in her hair without a brush but she managed to suppress her perfectionism as she twisted the rough texture back into a bun. At a passing glance she might not have garnered any further attention, but upon closer inspection, you might see the burgeoning bruises lining her collarbones, the suck-swollen ruby red of her lips, the wobbly way she was holding herself to minimize friction against her still wet cunt, the glassy-eyed look she had in her post orgasmic haze, no matter how much cold water she splashed against her skin. It was the best she could do for now. She pulled her dress down to cover her knees, still rough pink and mottled, and stared hard at herself in the mirror. Who was the monster now?  
When she emerged, Steve had redressed in his pants, obviously feeling that the atmosphere had changed enough between them that she might even find his nudity an affront. Goddamn her she was just as composed as she had ever been. The eagre creature who had so recently been on her knees daring him to break her had been swallowed by the Valkyrie who was now doing nothing short of staring him down. Even now, standing in the doorway as she was, he could see her hardening, all the soft pink parts of her shutting down, barring him from their delicate ecstasy.  
He swallows.  
‘Are you going back to the party?’  
She smiles but its stays barely on the kind side of cruel.  
‘We’ve been missing for two hours now, Captain’ he’s already opened his mouth to protest the title ‘sorry, Steve.’ She corrects herself before he has a chance. ‘I think returning in my current state would raise more questions than my absence.’  
She’s walking across his room now headed directly for the exit and it takes more restraint than he’s exercised all night not to stop her, kiss her, get to his knees before her and beg her to give him at least one more chance to bury his tongue inside her and make her shake so prettily. He’s not able to keep himself from reaching for her, his fingers splaying out towards her hesitantly just as she passes him. She notices and he sees her look away just as quickly.  
‘Bobby-’  
‘-Thank you again, Steve. You’ve done more than you know.’  
The words don’t have a chance to leave his mouth, dying on the tip of his tongue as she shuts the door definitively behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

Bobby sleeps better that night that any other in recent memory. She had managed to file out with a revolving throng of guests, remaining unnoticed despite the memory of her night distracting her to the point of almost stepping out in front of a cab. The morning brings pain every time she swallows but she spends the rest of the day reliving the pleasure of why. The day is interspersed with bouts of daydreaming, intrusive flashes from the night before; the lines in Steve’s forehead when she first bent over for him, the tightening of his jaw when he finally felt how wet she was, the strong grip of his hands when he entered her, the strain in his neck as he started to come, all of it was seared into her, a branding iron bearing his scent, his strength. The run she had planned was quickly postponed considering the aching in her cunt that did nothing to help her focus. The bruising she had felt the night before around her shoulders and thighs was blooming into a deep blue that would necessitate a high neck over the next week. It had been however, too long since she had felt that swell in her chest as seeing how marked she was, the sting on her knees, the tenderness in her cunt, the residue of being completely owned and she missed it dearly. Who was the monster now?  
She sees the unopened email from Doctor Schreznic blinking at her from her phone. She should make good on her promise to Tony. Such a good girl. You’re so good for me aren’t you? Even alone in her apartment she stifles her smile.  
Across town, Steve is faced with his own set of issues as he surveys the kitchen where Sam is curled up on the couch still in his suit, Bucky behind him with an arm draped over his torso protectively, both of them snoring. That otherworldly mead must have made an appearance to knock Bucky out like that. Poor Sam wouldn’t have stood a chance. While the tower isn’t in tatters, the previous night’s proclivities are evident in the missing glasses that usually line the bar that have been broken and since cleared, as well as the rogue jackets on various pieces of furniture, no doubt belonging to guests who are still in the tower. He surveys his friends and their droning in dismay, clutching the sketchbook in his hand even tighter. It’s not his preference to draw around people but he can’t risk the rainy forecast to sketch in the park, nor the publicity of a café. His room was suddenly claustrophobic, the scent of her somehow lingering in his sheets, on his skin. Everything that had happened was thick in the air, forcing its way into his head and clouding his focus. The pleasure of seeing her come undone followed so quickly by her rejection had left him whiplashed. You going to come down my throat Captain? Steve’s jaw clenches, the pencils straining audibly in his grasp. There was that one blessed image he couldn’t get out of his mind. And he knew that it wouldn’t until he put it to paper. It was still early and Bucky and Sam looked far too comfortable to notice him as he dropped into the seat opposite the window, laying his pencils out on the table next to a cup of freshly brewed coffee.  
It’s at least an hour and a half before they come to, Sam snorting himself awake and confused underneath a metal arm he’s holding like a lifeline. He’s disoriented enough that he doesn’t throw Bucky off immediately, instead craning his head to follow the appendage from wrist to elbow and all the way up confirming its owner. Bucky jerks awake a second after, clocking Steve before the man in his arms. Sam jerks upright getting to his feet and opening his mouth to unleash what insults he can only imagine but is quickly silenced as Bucky raises a pointed finger to his lips, his eyes gesturing to Steve. Both men turn to watch as the usually alert Captain stares at the book in his lap, facing the window, completely oblivious. Bucky can tell that Sam is uninitiated to Steve’s drawing ritual by the way his eyebrows crawl into his hairline. He shoots a questioning glance at Bucky who simply keeps his finger to his lips. He watches as Sam strolls to the window, making his way as quietly as he can in his socks across the floor. He doesn’t have the heart to say anything, certain that Steve will become aware as he always does of his surroundings. He hasn’t been able to sneak up on him once since coming out of the ice. But as Sam gets closer, glancing back at him in bewilderment that Steve hasn’t turned around yet, he notices something a little different about his friend. There’s pensiveness in his face he hasn’t seen in a long time, a slant to his shoulders that belies the strength he knows he’s capable of. Bucky can’t remember the last time Steve had been so distracted to be unconscious to anyone coming up behind him. He’s smudging lazily along the outline of his drawing, his hand relaxed in that familiar way. He stands, his pace quickening when he sees Sam’s mouth drop open in shock as he looks over Steve’s shoulder at the drawing in his lap.  
Even though he feels as though they’ve been stood there a touch too long without attracting his friend’s attention, it’s all Bucky can do not to gasp when he peers down seeing what’s kept him looking as rapt as he has. It’s not fair of them to be privy to something so obviously personal without him knowing. He breaks the silence.  
‘Where’d you disappear to last night Stevie?’  
If it weren’t for the uncharacteristic way Steve scrambles to hide the picture, Bucky would have laughed.  
‘Got a bit loud that’s all, went to clear my head.’  
‘Oh yeah? We didn’t see you for the rest of the night.’  
While Bucky’s question had been teasing, Sam’s tone was down right interrogative. They round the window taking a seat opposite each other.  
‘Not so sure you would have noticed whether I was here or not considering how comfortable you two were getting together.’  
Steve’s smirking. Bucky has the grace to look sheepish as Sam fidgets back even further away from him, sighing.  
‘It was a rough night Rogers but touché,’ Steve chuckles, picking up his cup of long cold coffee to occupy his hands ‘doesn’t explain where Bobby Di Breve comes into it though’.  
Steve splutters, coffee spilling inelegantly down his chin as he coughs. While Bucky wasn’t familiar with the name, he’d often seen the strict looking woman on the fringes of Stark’s PR disasters, stalking after him like a frustrated nanny.  
‘That’s uh,’ Steve is avoiding eye contact with everyone ‘that’s not-’  
‘-S’private, I get it,’ Sam stands, attempting to straighten himself ‘can’t say I fault your taste, Cap’ he walks past Bucky, his expression conceding.  
‘All yours, big spoon’  
He mutters under his breath, grabbing his jacket off the back of a chair and leaving the kitchen area.  
There’s a measured silence now that it’s just the two of them, as there so often has been in their history.  
‘Sleep well?’  
Steve finally asks, making Bucky purse his lips.  
‘Don’t start with me this morning after stranding me last night.’  
‘Sorry about that, Buck. I meant to come back.’  
‘What happened?’  
Steve glances tellingly at the sketchbook, now closed on the table between them. A beat.  
‘You drawin’ again, Stevie?’  
He knows when not to push. He’s always known. Steve nods, leaning forward and lacing his fingers together.  
‘Can I see?’  
It almost makes Bucky nervous the way Steve swallows while he’s silent. It reminds him of the kid he knew so long ago that seems all but lost in the speed and strength of the man he’s since become. He heaves a heavy sigh before leaning back, sketchbook in hand. He’s tapping it against the back of his hand, all too clearly not looking at Bucky during whatever struggle he’s having with himself.  
He hands it out wordlessly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. Even having an expectation of what he’s about to see, the portrait still makes Bucky’s breath hitch as the book falls open. He’s never seen anything like it before in Steve’s work. He’d always been good at people, landscapes, caricature, but this was on a completely different plane; intimate. Not just for the fact the woman depicted was naked and kneeling, arms held behind her, staring up at the viewer with ropes of saliva and come covering her cheeks and lips. Not just for the fact that the hair matted to her forehead and smudged makeup around her eyes and parted lips was completely pornographic, nor for how come dripped off her peaked nipples and onto her thighs below, but for the expression on her face. There was open-mouthed joy accompanying that teasing look, her lids heavy as she peered up at the viewer. There was a mole beneath her right collarbone that gave Bucky pause. It was too minute a detail to be included arbitrarily. It was explicit. It was obscene. And there was something about how carefully Steve was watching him that ensured he steeled his face into as neutral an expression as he could muster.  
‘Holy hell, ’ he was at a loss for words but felt like he needed to say something. ‘This…this is something else.’  
Steve rubs a hand over his face.  
‘This is…’  
Bucky trails off, not entirely sure he should be looking at something so personal. He shuts the book, handing it back.  
‘Yeah.’  
‘She works for…’  
Steve’s eyebrows twitch.  
‘Yeah’  
‘And last night…?’  
Steve’s rubbing his lips together, attempting to keep them from turning upwards at the memory. He fails.  
‘Yeah.’  
‘Jesus Christ.’  
Bucky’s laughing in shock, his expression mirroring Steve’s.  
‘Well, after seeing that, I have no choice but to forgive you,’ he says deadpan ‘for abandoning me to Sam’  
‘You’re a jerk’  
Steve manages to get it out through his chuckle.  
His friend stretches, making his way to pour his own coffee.  
‘It’ll make Monday interesting, that’s for sure.’  
‘Monday?’  
‘Shuri’s arriving to head up some scholarship program she’s settin’ up here with Stark. T’Challa wants me to shadow her while she’s here, you know as a public sign of goodwill, considering what she did for me over there. Plus, he can’t send the entire Dora to protect her even though he wants to.’  
Steve’s bemusement is evident in his silence.  
‘Stark’s team will be handling the press. We all have an appointment tomorrow with the head of his PR.’  
Bucky brings the cup to his lips, sipping while he watches with absolute pleasure as the realisation dawns on Steve. There’s a gentle shade of pink trepidation that creeps over his features that Bucky can’t help but grin at.  
‘I’ll see you at training later.’  
He takes his cup out of the kitchen, leaving Steve alone with the drawing that’s now burning a hole in his conscience.

‘It’s been a pleasure.’  
Bobby holds out her hand, curious as to what Okoye’s feels like in hers.  
‘Miss Di Breve’  
The woman says, tilting her shaved head with an assessing gaze. Her avoidance of the proffered hand acknowledges her elevated status while still being respectful. Oh yes, Bobby liked this woman immensely. The side of her mouth turns up in a smile that Okoye matches and it’s all too knowing.  
‘Uh oh’ Tony says lowly raising his eyebrows at Bucky ‘let’s get out of here before these women solve all of the world’s problems.’  
Bucky chuckles at the fact they don’t even afford him a glance.  
‘We wouldn’t dream of it, Tony.’ Bobby’s tone is just a touch biting and it makes Okoye change her mind about touching the woman, reaching out and grasping her fingers in a firm promising hold. Bobby is surprised, but pleasantly so. Okoye can see it in how her eyes narrow.  
‘Good,’ Tony continues attempting to usher them out of the meting room ‘you know how I need to feel needed to fill the void inside me left by years of alcoholism.’  
Bobby rolls her eyes.  
‘How do you work around such…honesty?’  
The security head asks in her beautiful lilt. Bobby purses her lips glancing at Shuri.  
‘We do what we must in order to thrive under such conditions, don’t we?’  
The princess laughs, making her way to the door, clearly picking up on the rising traction between the two women. She glances over her shoulder at Bucky, waiting for him to follow. Bobby wonders if there’s something a little like a crush between the princess and her protector. It’s nothing he seems too aware of though as he walks passed her and Okoye, nodding at her with amusement in his face, his eyes glancing to her collarbone. It makes Bobby want to fidget. He and Steve have been joined at the hip since being reunited, it wouldn’t be too far a stretch for her to assume that they shared stories, hers being one of them. People having information about her that she hasn’t freely given is not a situation Bobby likes and one she actively tries to avoid. She tugs nervously at her high collar. She had been sure it covered the telling marks across her neck when she hung it out the previous night. Okoye doesn’t miss the action and sees the edge of a purple bruise underneath the white of her shirt. When they make eye contact again there’s a challenge.  
‘I look forward to seeing you at the ground break tomorrow, Okoye.’  
That same smile is still on both of their faces  
‘Likewise, Miss Di Breve.’  
It sounds like a covenant between the two women. She leaves last, as she always does, closing and locking the door behind her as is standard security protocol before she hears a voice that makes her freeze. There’s relief that no one noticed, but it’s replaced immediately by heat that starts in her belly and spreads through her chest, flooding her with memories. Her composure is not lost long, as it ever is, and she turns towards the hallway, its occupants a few feet ahead of her. He hugs Shuri, having to lean over almost comically in order to reach her comparatively small stature. Their conversation is animated, a genuine smile curving even Okoye’s face. There’s laughter and light and everything that Bobby knows he’s capable of showing the outside world, but she sees now that it’s just as much a part of him as everything she’s come to know too.  
Her steps don’t echo in her stilettos on the plush carpet but he can feel every one until she’s upon them. He doesn’t look at Bucky; he can’t risk it. There’s a suspended moment when their eyes finally meet, thankfully unnoticed by the smiling princess who’s doing her best to goad her security detail into what can only be assumed to be a dance move.  
‘Miss Di Breve.’  
Steve nods at her. She can feel Bucky’s eyes boring holes through her, his mouth fighting a losing battle with his smirk. He knows.  
‘Captain.’  
She greets him formally and she can see his breath stutter, the slightest tensing around his mouth at the title. Okoye is watching them in a way that would give Hawkeye a run for his money.  
‘How-how are you?’  
She’s not too proud to admit it’s endearing. There’s an affectionate tug of her lips as she hears him stutter. So broad and commanding, Bucky thinks, and yet still a stuttering punk when faced with a beautiful woman.  
‘You should come,’ Bucky interrupts the awkward exchange doing his best to save his friend ‘We’d love to have you. Right, Shuri?’  
She nods eagerly  
‘Please Steve, I promised I’d give my brother an update and he’s so happy not to be my test subject for once.’  
He grins.  
‘Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.’  
She kisses him on the cheek goodbye, before automatically reaching to encircle her fingers around Bucky’s metal wrist. The action takes him by surprise but he allows her to lead him off down the hall towards Tony’s lab, Okoye pausing a little longer as she sighs behind them. Yes, maybe something a little more like a crush. It’s not long before they’re alone again. Steve was battling with whether he should come or not, knowing his real motivation was to corner her and his best chances would be after the meeting. He could dress it up in seeing his friends but in truth, he should have now been following them to where Shuri was allowed free reign to play in Stark’s lab if that were the case.  
‘I’m very well, Captain.’  
Steve rubs the back of his neck feeling a blush spread across his shoulders. He exhales but it sounds far more strangled than he intends.  
‘Please, uh…you can call me, Steve’ he clears his throat ‘Captain, isn’t uh-necessary-’  
They both glance at a passerby carrying a tub full of parts on the way to the lab. He clears his throat again looking at his shoes and she can’t help but find the action adorable.  
‘Very well, Steve. Is there something I can do for you?’  
It’s a question that would normally be underpinned by impatience but it’s so gentle coming out of her mouth now. Bobby wonders what’s happened to her.  
‘I was hoping we could talk,’ she gestures around their surroundings confused, just as he knew she would ‘somewhere a bit more private.’  
There’s a quick glance at her watch.  
‘I was about to get a coffee if you’d like to join me.’  
She offers a small smile and it’s the first time she’s seemed soft, not irritated with him, not challenging him, just welcoming.  
‘I would.’  
The elevator is empty when they first enter, the space charged as neither speaks but she can feel his head turned to her, shifting between her and the elevator doors out of some sense of misplaced propriety. He knows he shouldn’t stare but he’s awed by the composure that permeates every facet of her being, from her dead straight hair, made so much darker against the crisp white of her collared shirt, buttoned all the way up to her neck; a pristine, untouchable beauty overshadowing the complete and utter wreck he had made of her. For now.  
‘You look really-’  
The doors open, allowing several people to enclose them in the shrinking space.  
‘-really good.’  
He finishes quietly and she wants to laugh at the absurdity of the situation. She allows the threatening smile to split her face, staring at him unapologetically and he isn’t able to keep his chuckle quiet when he finally meets her eyes. The other lift occupants haven’t seemed to notice the tension they’ve interrupted between the couple at the back. He holds out his hand to let her exit first and Bobby thinks she must be possessed to find even that small gesture cute.  
‘Steve!’  
They both turn to see Pepper coming towards them, her hands full of files.  
‘Bobby!’  
She exclaims, her tone now filled with surprise.  
‘I thought you were still in DC.’  
Pepper’s face brightens  
‘I got an early flight back to catch the ground-break tomorrow.’  
‘Well, Tony will be very pleased to see you.’  
Pepper pauses, the sweet inflection at the mention of Tony’s name making her look at Bobby as though she’d sprouted an arm in the middle of her forehead. The break in conversation allows Pepper to look at them fully, noting the way Steve is angled towards Bobby and the unusually relaxed curve of her spine considering she was usually rigid enough to hold a ruler to.  
‘Are you two…stepping out?’  
The latter half of her question is measured, her tone voicing all the things she hadn’t asked but could see so clearly between them.  
‘Was there something you needed, Pepper?’  
Both women are taken aback at the uncharacteristically abrupt question. Steve attempts to soften it with a kind crinkling of his eyes but the surprise is enough to bring both women up short.  
‘This is yours I believe?’ She holds out a thick black sketchbook ‘I found it in the common area and was going to drop it off at your room,’ she glances at Bobby ‘but now I don’t need to.  
The muscle in his jaw twitches as he takes it, thanking her and bringing it to his side in that all too familiar way that meant he was ashamed of what was in his hands. It was common knowledge that he liked to draw and had talented fingers, something Bobby could attest to. The thought makes her grow hot.  
‘You two enjoy the rest of your day.’  
Bobby knows Pepper well enough to see her smile is a little too luminescent. She only hopes that nothing gets back to Tony. The café is busy enough that no one seems to notice whose company they’re in when they arrive, but Steve is holding his sketchbook like a bomb and is becoming increasingly tetchy. He refuses a coffee but insists on paying for hers, ever the gentleman.  
He manages to find a table towards the back of the café, as secluded as they can be at peak hour.  
‘I’ll be honest with you Steve,’ she begins after his eyes shift nervously to the sketchbook hidden on his lap under the table ‘your cloak and dagger act is beginning to make me nervous.’  
That seems to snap him out of his trance, only now realising that he was unconsciously bracing himself for an attack.  
‘Sorry I…,’ a beat ‘I just wanted to see you again.’  
‘Steve-’  
It sounds just like all of her other warnings. He can’t let her finish. Not if what she’s about to say would clip anything between them before it had a chance to fly.  
‘-I wanted you to stay. You know that.’ She can sense he’s not finished. ‘Of course you didn’t have to, but I wasn’t sure if, maybe I had…’  
‘You worried that you went too far?’  
‘Did I?’  
He’s leaning forward on his thick forearms, caging the table but looking for all the world like a lost little boy on the heels of his question. Her immediate reaction is to scoff, but she stamps it down. He doesn’t deserve her derision. He never has. She knows that now. She leans forward, matching his angle.  
‘No, you didn’t.’  
His face crumples in relief, his eyes warm and searching. They travel down her face, lingering on her mouth before jumping distractedly to her collar and she can tell the exact moment he sees her bruises. If him reaching across the table and tugging on the fabric wasn’t telling enough, his face darkens perceptibly as though someone flicked a switch. Bobby’s mouth almost waters as she sees even now, the monster fighting tooth and nail with the Good Captain, the reflexive concern that’s almost overshadowed by heat and the closest thing she’s ever seen to pride on his face.  
‘You checked in with me when you thought I’d had enough, even though I hadn’t used the colour system. I hadn’t even pushed you away.’  
‘I hurt you.’  
He counters, and it might have sounded apologetic to anyone listening in but his voice is too gruff, his words too strained for her not to notice how it’s affecting him.  
‘Yes you did,’ she pauses weighing her choice carefully ‘Captain.’  
His nostrils flare and she knows she made the right one.  
‘You don’t trust me to know my own limits?’  
The challenge he’s come to associate with her is back in her tone.  
‘No, of course not I-’  
‘-Sergeant Barnes,’  
She interrupts him deliberately, gauging his reaction  
‘Bucky?’  
He’s baffled.  
‘How long before you revealed exactly how and with whom you spent the night?’  
She recognises the look on his face; it’s the exact same one her family dog used to wear when she was caught eating food off the stove.  
‘He saw it all over me yesterday. We’ve known each other too long, I guess.’  
She tilts her head in acknowledgement but it’s clear that it’s not a concession. He’s fidgeting with his fingers, wishing he’d ordered a drink for himself to keep his hands busy. She leans forward even further, her voice dropping.  
‘I’m sorry. In hindsight, I should have stayed. We should have talked after. But I thought I made it clear,’ his head jerks up, dread creeping in around the edges of his arousal ‘how much I enjoyed myself,’  
Relief washes over him.  
‘How good you made me feel.’  
Her voice has become rougher.  
A match has been struck behind his eyes, lighting them up from the inside  
‘How much I loved having you inside me,’  
Under any other circumstances he would have glanced around to ensure no one else could hear but he was too captivated.  
‘Down my throat’  
She continues and he doesn’t have to look into his lap to know he’s tenting his pants.  
‘You were exactly what I needed.’  
‘I want to see you again.’ His words rush out in a breath he’s been holding ‘I want to take you out. Lemme take you to dinner.’  
Bobby’s mouth opens slightly.  
‘Please’  
He adds imploringly.  
‘Steven…’  
She’s shaking her head  
‘What, you’re happy for me to turn you inside out but not take you on a date?’  
‘It’s hardly appropriate.’  
‘Appropriate?’  
He’s incredulous in light of the conversation they’d just had.  
‘Please don’t think that I have any regrets, but my job and my reputation are important. It would be unprofessional for me to…’ she’s aware that delicacy is imperative and it would be too easy to slip into her ruthless default ‘…for me to be seen with a member from the team I’m supposed to be mana-’  
‘-It doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want.’  
She raises a perfect brow  
‘And what about what you want?’  
He huffs.  
‘You’re impossible, woman.’  
It’s sharp but there’s an undeniable admiration in his words if his grin didn’t give him away.  
‘I want to see your drawings.’  
He freezes. She deserved to see them. He had already breached her privacy once, invaded her body, but only with half the intensity that she’d invaded his mind, he thinks wryly. He had turned her into an unwitting subject. The debt he owed his muse was quickly growing into one he would never be able to repay.  
‘Are they off limits to me?’  
She emphasises the last word with the same incredulity he’d had. He licks his lips, obviously at war with himself and she notices how unsteady his hands are when she reaches for it, wordless. Neither is aware of the contract being written between them of complete vulnerability as she lifts the heavy black covering, the only barrier between where they are now and what they will become after she sees. Bobby becomes completely absorbed, transported into his park landscapes, the laughing faces, the black and grey skyline of the city as she turns page after page, lingering on the stitching of buttons in clothing and lines in the faces of an elderly couple. Steve is growing more and more tense but it’s a secondary observation behind all the details she’s taking in. When Bobby looks back on this moment she’ll realise that it was here, in this café, with marks dotting her body, and the devoted man sitting across from her who was responsible, that she was well and truly at the mercy of her Good Captain, just as much as he was at hers. It’s audible when his breath hitches as she turns the last page, and she’s never been gladder not to be holding hot coffee, as she’s sure she would have dropped it. Her gasp eclipses all other sounds for him. He can feel the scrape of her breath over her lips as though it were on his skin, raising the hairs along the nape of his neck. She swallows but it makes no difference to her harsh breathing, increasing the longer she looks. Steve is terrified he’ll see disgust, hatred or even panic on her face and he’s prepared for all three. But the longer she looks, the longer he watches her, he sees the shock transform. It twists her mouth until she’s pressing her lips together. Then it draws out her tongue to swipe along her bottom lip, reddening the skin and leaving it wet. Steve is painfully hard now, knowing she’s looking at the very picture that shows exactly how he sees her. She blinks slowly, lifting her head to the cause of the heat spreading between her thighs.  
‘You did this?’  
What a stupid question, Bobby. But she needs to hear him say it, needs to have him admit what he’s done to her, to them both.  
‘I didn’t tell Bucky,’ he starts by way of explanation ‘he saw.’  
She shuts the book, suddenly aware of the people milling around them and the coffee that’s growing cold in front of her.  
‘Jesus Christ, Steve’  
She puts the book on the table, closed and incendiary.  
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-’ he sighs heavily. ‘I just want to see you again, please.’  
She’s staring at the book on the table between them, drumming her long lacquered nails against the surface rhythmically.  
‘You asked me what I want,’ Steve begins again and his face is set, hard and determined ‘I want your time. I want to take you somewhere nice and open doors for you and learn about your family and listen to you tell every single story about your life.’  
He leans forward, making sure she holds his gaze.  
‘I want to taste you and touch you and tie you to my bed and fuck you until you cant walk or talk for screaming.’  
He’s whispering now.  
‘I want to make you shake. I want to kiss your mouth and right between your thighs. I want to ruin you so you can’t touch yourself without thinking about my hands on you. I want you to submit. I want you to be mine.’  
Just when she thought she had this man figured out…  
He owned her with the explicit images he painted so vividly before them both, as if it were another drawing laid out in his sketchbook.  
‘That’s what I want.’  
He’s finished now.  
Bobby didn’t realise how tightly she was squeezing her thighs until she moves in her chair, wetness spilling over onto the lace of her underwear. He’s smiling at her now. He knows.  
‘Tell me something,’ She’s waiting expectantly for him to continue ‘are you wet, Miss Di Breve?’  
She knows the rapid rise and fall of her chest is telling, practically giving herself away.  
His face darkens.  
‘Answer me.’  
‘Yes, Captain.’  
She’s far too breathy to lie to him anyway. He’d see right through it if he couldn’t smell it.  
‘Tell me why.’  
Gone is the bashful young man, uncertain of how he’d be received that had greeted her not a half hour before, and in his place she’s faced with her Captain in all his demanding glory. She can’t resist playing with him.  
‘You know why.’  
The breath he draws in is deep, expanding his chest until he seems impossibly broad.  
‘When I ask you a question I expect an answer.’  
She sucks a lip between her teeth, trying to stamp down the urge to throw herself across his lap and have him spank her then and there in full public view. That wouldn’t do at all.  
‘Tell me why you are wet. I’m not going to ask again.’  
Bobby squares her shoulders, placing both hands on the table in front of her in a display of submission.  
‘I’m wet, Captain,’ his approval is evident in the dilation of his pupils, widening until there’s a fine ring of blue skirting his iris ‘because I’m picturing you tying me down and fucking me until I scream.’  
‘Is that what you want?’  
‘Yes, sir.’  
‘Good girl.’  
It’s so strained Steve thinks it a miracle he managed to speak at all.  
‘Except…’  
His veneer falters, her dominating Captain cracking just enough to allow his concern through at her potential proviso.  
‘I want you to tie my hands this time so I can’t fight you.’  
His lids lower slowly, staying shut so long she wonders if she’s violated their contract. Maybe she’d misread him. Maybe she’d ruined it. When he opens them again, his expression is vicious, a caged animal pacing agitatedly around its confines.  
‘You need to be careful,’ he growls roughly ‘in what you ask of me.’  
While he thinks she’s never looked more beautiful than when she bares the evidence of his struggle with control, he absolutely does not want to test her limits to the point where he breaks them. That’s something he would never find forgiveness for, no matter how freely she was willing to give it.  
‘Please, Captain,’ and fuck she sounds just as wanting as he does ‘I want to be completely at your mercy. I want you to use me however you see fit. I know that you were holding back,’ his eyes narrow ‘and I want you to know that you don’t have to with me.’  
She didn’t know what she was asking. She couldn’t possibly.  
‘I trust you.’  
She says simply and it’s his undoing. He’s pushing so insistently at his zipper he’s not sure his jeans would bear him standing. The smile she offers him is genuine and it awes him; how she’s so capable of embodying both the marble demoness he’s seen, unflinchingly bending those around her to her will, as well as the utterly broken and clawing mess he’d reduced her to. They blend seamlessly on each side of her coin. Meanwhile he is constantly being torn apart and rebuilt under the weight of his uniform’s expectation, and its conflict with his instincts when he removes it. Cracks had already formed the minute she had admitted her desires to him that fateful night in the elevator. If he allowed her to justify his being consumed with the monster, then he wouldn’t survive another night with her. Steve knew he would shatter irreparably. And he had never been more eagre for something in his entire life.  
‘Can I see you tonight?’  
He’s somewhere between her Captain and the one that belongs to the world as he asks; dominance bowed beneath his vulnerability. She nods once.  
‘7 o’clock? Dinner?’  
‘8.30. Drinks.’  
It’s the best he’s going to get from her for now. But he’s stubborn, maybe more so than she. Steve is willing to wait as long as it takes. He just hopes she knows that.


	3. Chapter 3

Bobby can’t remember the last time she had butterflies, but she doesn’t think that’s what this is as she stretches her back trying to dislodge the tight feeling in her belly. It’s tension. She’s vibrating from the roots of her hair right down to the soles of her feet. The thought of food hadn’t even entered her mind meaning she was operating off the effects from coffee and excitement. The day passed in a blur, barely registering on the heels of the anticipation that had blinded her to everything beyond picturing what marks she’d bear tomorrow. She had refused to allow him to pick her up. The motorcycle wasn’t something she was terribly keen on, but she suspected that in Steve’s hands it would only increase her fervour. Besides, the preparation is what kept her sated. Bobby applied shadow to her eyes, shaping it so it would have no trouble smudging when they started to water. Nothing water proof tonight, she wanted it to run. Under any other circumstances she would have left her hair out, but she felt daring, and there was only one way tonight would end up; she scraped it back into a high ponytail. It was easy enough to change later, if her Captain wished it. Fuck, she was already wet.  
Get a hold of yourself. She scolded her reflection in the mirror. She was ready, she only hoped he was.

Steve was already waiting for her, far too early to be considered merely punctual. There had been one thing he absolutely wanted to have for when they arrived back at his and he knew that asking Tony was Not An Option. Shuri would be able to help him; it was a simple enough request. He did say he would visit the lab after all. Knowing Bucky would be there and only all too aware of his intentions, his resolve was just about ready to break. He found Shuri aiming magnets at Bucky’s arm while he was engrossed an episode of Great British Bake Off. Her face immediately broke into a smile gesturing for Steve to join her at her workbench behind the sofa where Bucky was mumbling about corn starch.  
‘Hey, kid,’ he greets her affectionately ‘what’s going on?’  
He had gestured to the workbench between them, but his eyes flick tellingly over to his friend at another outburst.  
‘…doesn’t get that out of the oven now then her icing is going to melt right off.’  
Shuri can’t help her grin.  
‘I turned it on to distract him while I tested a new isotope to see if it was compatible with his arm upgrade.’  
They’re whispering conspiratorially  
‘…Syrup’s too hot. It’s gonna burn.’  
Shuri looks him straight in the eye  
‘That was three hours ago.’  
Bucky suddenly straightens, leaning on his knees closer to the tv.  
‘…only flavour in that sponge apart from ginger is going to be charcoal.’  
Steve looks stricken.  
‘Shuri, you’ve created a monster.’  
She laughs at that, loud and sharp enough that Bucky turns towards the commotion.  
‘Oh hey punk, finished with your date already?’  
He’s wearing his typical shit-eating grin. Steve clears his throat.  
‘I was hoping you could help me find something actually.’ he continues, pointedly ignoring the remark. Shuri doesn’t though, her eyebrows raised high on her forehead, her cheeky grin mirroring Bucky’s.  
‘And what might that be, Captain?’  
Why was everyone teasing him today? Maybe this was a bad idea.  
‘I need restraints.’  
He didn’t mean to drop his voice as low as he did but he’s smart enough to know it won’t escape her notice. Damn.  
‘Restraints?’  
Her volume, if anything has increased. He knows Bucky’s listening, having suddenly grown very quiet.  
‘Cuffs, if you have ‘em. Strong enough to hold me, but nothing too fancy.’  
He’s never seen Shuri gobsmacked before.  
‘Are they for you?’  
He can’t help the nervous glance he shoots his friend’s way, noting how he’s watching over his shoulder with that stupid knowing smile on his face. Steve clears his throat.  
‘Training exercise.’  
‘I only need to know for sizing, Steve,’ she walks over to a large tray, turning her back to him ‘You worry too much.’  
He’s standing there awkwardly, doing everything to avoid anyone else’s gaze, while Shuri rummages around before appearing with two slim silver cuffs. They almost look like bracelets. She holds one out, narrow side up before pressing something in the middle of the band. It separates cracking open along a closure that had been invisible until now. Steve knew better than to be surprised, with what little he’d seen of Wakandan technology.  
‘Here,’ she holds it out for him to take ‘It will close around whatever it’s held against up to 12 inches.’  
He pushes the band into his wrist watching mesmerised as it joins almost seamlessly on the other side.  
‘Press in the centre for it to retract; it’s sensitive like a smart phone.’  
He does so. Perfect.  
‘Easy to take off if you have a spare hand, but…’  
She quickly brings the other cuff into view, wrapping it around Steve’s spare wrist. They immediately stick. He tugs experimentally, pleased with the minimal give. Bobby wouldn’t stand a chance.  
‘Magnetic?’  
A nod  
‘Within a centimetre. Otherwise you shouldn’t have any trouble with them. Unless you need something more resistant…?’  
She asks her tone laden with a curiosity that far outweighed the question.  
‘No, no. This should do just fine.’  
He strains against them, pulling them apart finally and pressing his finger into each to release them.  
‘This is remarkable, thank you Shuri.’  
‘I’m tempted to give them to you on the condition you tell me what they’re for.’  
He can feel Bucky’s eyes on him as he swallows.  
‘I told you it’s for a-’  
‘-Training exercise’  
She nods, her lips pursing.  
‘Right.’  
He dare not look at Bucky over his shoulder. It’s hard enough teetering on the edge as he is already. She cocks her head, growing even more curious. He has to get out of there.  
‘Thank you again.’  
He’s already backing out of the lab, but is facing them long enough to catch the questioning look the princess shoots her companion.

The bar was quieter than it should have been on a weeknight, something Steve is thankful for as he slides into a booth towards the back. He’s ordered a whisky, not risking having his hands unoccupied a second time. He likes the taste well enough, even if it’s only an expensive way for him to dehydrate nowadays. She’s three minutes early, making nothing short of an Entrance as she opens the door, scanning the booths towards the back before finding him. She knew where he’d be. And as she stalks towards him, all fitted jeans and thigh-high boots, glinting eyes and parted lips, she lights the flare, holding it up to the beast buried deep in his darkness, illuminating it and provoking it to step further into the light. He never stood a chance. He makes to stand as she approaches but she simply holds out a hand, stopping him before sliding in opposite. There’s a pause; two boxers sizing each other up before the first bell.  
‘You look incredible.’  
He breaks first. He has no other choice.  
‘As do you.’  
‘May I buy you a drink?’  
‘Martini please, vodka, dirty.’  
He’s not surprised. He wouldn’t have been if she’d ordered fire to be poured straight on her tongue.  
She sips it slowly. Not here to be drunk then. Steve had been wondering if maybe alcohol was something that might alter things between them. He doesn’t want it to. He craves her in a way that is completely foreign and he has been ever since he saw her, tight lipped and stern in the gym. He knows that now.  
‘May I call you Bobby? I’m the only one who doesn’t but I feel I should definitely ask first.’  
She laughs.  
‘You may, Captain. Although I do prefer when call me good girl.’  
And that’s all it takes for a blush to creep up his cheeks before settling comfortably on the tips of his ears.  
She brings her martini slowly to her lips, maintaining her gaze with him while she tilts it back. Steve slumps in defeat.  
‘Just how long do you expect I’ll be able to resist you? Or maybe you think being in public will save me from putting you over my knee,’ his fingers brush at her knee under the table ‘or touching you.’  
‘Maybe I want you to.’  
His face is set, a clear indication of how single minded his thoughts have become.  
‘I’ve told you before, be extremely careful what you ask of me. I can only say no to so much.’  
The heat’s moved lower, hardening his cock.  
‘You don’t trust me?’  
The question is far too saccharine dripping from her mouth considering they both know the answer. Not at all.  
‘That hardly seems fair. I trust you after all.’  
What does she expect him to do? She’s already testing the limits of his restraint and here they are, both fully clothed and surrounded by spectators. All these people watching as you owned her… Oh dear. Steve is in much more trouble than he thought. He swallows the golf ball in his throat.  
‘Were you born in New York?’  
‘That’s not going to work.’  
‘What?’  
‘Attempting to change the subject.’  
He scoffs, glancing at anywhere except the vixen sitting across from him, taunting him. She shifts slightly and it’s a second before he feels the toe of her boot press into his crotch. He can’t help the quick look he steals into his lap, awed at how sure her toes are, applying the barest hint of pressure right into his cock, which follows her as she pulls away. Traitor. When he exhales next, his breath is shaky.  
‘Bobby…’  
And this time the warning clear and full of promise. She doesn’t heed it, maintaining eye contact with him while she brings her drink to her lips, draining it.  
‘Why are you making it so hard for me to know you?’  
‘Is that what I’m doing?’  
This time he manages to grip her ankle before she makes contact with his groin. From her face, she expected him to.  
‘I was serious about taking you on a date.’  
‘And we will discuss that possibility at a more appropriate time, but right now?’ She leans forward ‘is that really what you want this very second, Captain?’  
He clenches his jaw. Steve wants to say yes. Desperately he wants to be that man, and while he knows he can be, he’s having trouble finding him in this particular circumstance. He opens his mouth.  
‘Careful,’ she cuts him off ‘I won’t lie to you so don’t lie to me.’  
In answer he stands up abruptly, pulling his jacket in front of him in a way he hopes is subtle. He stops in front of her, his expression expectant and his hand outstretched. Her grin is nothing short of triumphant as she reaches for him, allowing him to pull her determinedly out the door. The knot in her stomach tightens as he hands her a bike helmet, the only one he has, before climbing on in front of her. Bobby doesn’t think she’s ever held onto something so tightly as she does to Steve’s waist as he zips away from the bar and back to the tower. They stand the requisite hand span apart waiting for the lift to arrive in the lobby, but he doesn’t even wait for the doors to close after they step inside before he’s in her space. It’s quick enough that it makes her gasp, how suddenly he’s around her, invading her senses and filling her up. He backs her against the wall as he’s done before but this time he cups a hand under her jaw, forcing her to look at him. She has no say in it this time as she watches his eyes drop to her mouth, closing the distance between them. It’s another realm whenever they’re in an elevator together and it’s only fitting that this is where they have their first kiss. Here is where they’ve sparred with words and hands and wrists and intentions. Here is where she first allowed him to really see her and where she had stumbled upon his secret. It was here where they had both unwittingly poured gasoline onto the fire in an attempt to put it out. She at least, should have known better. When their lips finally meet, the warmth is overwhelming. He’s smoke and sweetness and heat and she wonders why she waited so long before she tasted him like this. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. She sighs breathily into him and Steve can’t fathom how she can at all when he’s drowning in her. She’s soft and smooth underneath him. He wasn’t about to risk asking to kiss her when she might so easily say no, just to see the tortured look on his face. He had to be careful around this woman; this woman who could so easily bring him to his knees with the quirk of her plush lips against his. This woman who dared to wear his marks on her like adornments she had been gifted instead of with the anger and derision he deserved. This woman who stroked the beast within him when he was trying so hard not to let it destroy them both. This woman who may very well still be the death of him. And still he couldn’t get enough. He had hoisted her up against the wall of the lift, hooking his hands under her thighs until she wrapped them around his hips. He was doing his very best to kiss her completely breathless, and with the combination of his lips, tongue and hands under her shirt and against her heated skin, he was succeeding. When the bell sounds indicating his floor, he breaks apart from her enough only to carry her down the hallway to his room, his face buried in her neck the whole way. It’s a flurry of hands ripping at his clothes and peeling off hers when they enter. It’s mere seconds before they’re up against each other, skin to skin and she’s slipped his cock head between her legs, sliding him up into her folds coating him with her arousal until he’s near cross eyed.  
‘Wait,’  
He rasps out.  
‘Why?’  
She almost whines. She thrusts her hips, sliding up and down his cock until he’s completely slick with how wet she is.  
‘Fuck,’  
He’s fighting to form a coherent thought; his words have next to no hope  
‘I- I have something for you.’  
That makes her pause, squeezing him while he’s immobilised.  
With tense hands he pushes her back, until he slides out from between her legs, bouncing up against his belly. The bands are sitting on a bare table, ready and waiting. She cocks her head curious as he returns, holding them out in a broad palm.  
‘I need you to tell me if it gets too much, ok? I mean it.’  
She nods. It’s not enough, but he can see her eagerness and it tightens his chest.  
‘What do you say if you want me to stop?’  
‘Red.’  
She’s impatient. He won’t budge.  
‘And if you want me to slow down?’  
She huffs. He looks at her sternly, every inch her Captain.  
‘Amber.’  
He smiles. She’s placated him well enough for now.  
‘Hold out your hands, wrists together.’  
The pulse in the base of her neck has jumped from tapping to pounding, her pupils dilating. She follows his instructions like the good girl she is and Steve wonders just how long he’ll last if she approaches the rest of the night with this same enthusiasm. He presses into the cuffs, ensuring that the silver metal encircles each of her pliant wrists before attaching tight together. It’s quiet for the most naked moment while she stares at her gift.  
‘Thank you, Captain.  
She sounds choked up. He’s not going to last long at all. His thumb pushes into the centre, releasing her binds.  
‘These are for you. You are not to use them with anyone else, do you understand?’  
‘Yes, Captain’  
‘Only with me.’  
He’s gruff, already pushed to his limit seeing her powerless.  
‘Only with you.’  
She repeats back to him. There’s a moment between them; acknowledgement of the new boundary they’ve both just broached. There’s no coming back from this now. She’s not teasing him anymore. She looks in a word, hungry. How was he ever supposed to resist? How had he ever thought that he could? He pulls her into him again, his tongue insistent in her mouth, and her arching up into him, yielding, yearning. He’s walking her backwards until she hits his bed. The cuffs have fallen to the floor, forgotten in his urgency.  
‘I need you now.’  
He moans against her mouth as he pushes her down, flipping her over and pulling her hips up against his. He’s standing over her, looking down at the masterpiece before him.  
‘Spread your legs for me. Wide,’ he pulls at her thighs until her hips are almost flat against the bed ‘good girl.’  
Steve can’t wait another second, pressing one palm flat against her lower back pushing her further into the mattress. There’s no prelude. He sheaths himself in her, all the way to the hilt in one rough stroke. She cries out, fisting the sheets in her hands as he pulls her down on him, not giving her pliable body time to recover from last time he tried to break her. He’s merciless, bottoming out hard enough that it pushes her breath up and out of her torso in short sharp bursts. She’s already panting. God, he wishes he could see this beautiful curve of her spine and her face at the same time. He wraps her hair around his hand, jerking her head back.  
‘Who do you belong to?’  
He growls.  
‘You’  
She barely manages to get it out with the angle of her throat and how hard her body is working to keep her upright.  
‘Who do you belong to?’  
He says louder. His hand cracks down over her left ass cheek, pinking it under his touch. She screams again, but doesn’t answer him. Smack. He hits her again. Smack  
‘Answer me!’  
‘You! I’m yours!’  
‘Oh fuck’  
Hearing her yelp for him so tightly meant that this was going to be over before he even had a chance to cuff her. Steve spanks her again; the same spot now red, bringing his hand down with more force than he knows is necessary to hurt her. She’s whimpering.  
‘You’re gonna come for me now.’  
‘Yes, Captain.’  
He wants to do it; have her fall apart against his fingertips like she’s done so magnificently before, but that will steer him from risk of losing his tenuous control into certainty.  
‘Make yourself come for me.’  
Obediently, her right hand moves between her legs as he continues to push and pull her with his left, moving her like a ragdoll. He slaps her again when he feels her cunt tighten around him. The action elicits another flutter inside her. His eyes roll back into his skull. Fuck it.  
‘Come on, be a good girl. Come like the good girl you are.’  
Her panting is becoming louder the closer she gets to teetering off the edge. Steve can’t hold back anymore, he doesn’t want to. He pulls her hair tighter in his grip towards his shoulder, until she’s swayed backwards, her breasts jutting out. His head drops until his lips meet the join in her neck. Maybe he’ll drown in her if he’s lucky. Her hand is visible from this angle, working ruthless circles into her clit. Her breathing is even shallower. One hand snakes to hold her throat as he pistons into her body, so soft and wet for him. It’s not a conscious thought as he open his mouth along her shoulder, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm. She clenches around him. Exquisite though the torture may be, it’s all he can take. His teeth sink sharply into the flesh at her neck. He’s not sure if that’s what makes her scream as she comes, but scream she does, pulling him along after her. Steve can feel himself draining as he pumps into her over and over until he’s spent and shaking against her back, the faint taste of rust against his mouth. Shit, he broke her skin in his fever. She’s trembling beneath him. Had she called a colour while he was too frenzied? He wraps both arms around her, gasping into her hair, hoping she feels how much he wants her to be safe despite the welts he’s left so eagerly along her body. He’d never forgive himself if she didn’t feel safe in his arms.  
‘Bobby?’  
‘I’m here. I’m here’  
She whispers. Her voice is wet.  
With no small amount of concern, her turns her jaw, angled away from him as it is, until he can see her tear stained cheeks.  
‘You didn’t say anything’  
He says alarmed, almost accusatory.  
‘Don’t.’  
She cautions. It was overwhelming, being consumed by him body and soul. She was already coming; short of passing out, her rapture had no recourse. And here he’s about to ruin it with guilt. She tried her best to smile, but it’s too shaky on her face to settle him.  
‘Come here.’  
She says instead, looking at his mouth. Her offer of a kiss is just what he needs, what he was hoping for, and when they meet this time it’s no less urgent or deep, but the uncertainty is gone. His arms tighten around her until she breaks it.  
‘Steve,’  
He loosens his grip, but his brow is still furrowed. He can tell she doesn’t want him to ask her again, and he’s fighting tooth and nail not to but god how he wishes she would put him out of his misery.  
‘I’m ok, Steve. You didn’t hurt me. I told you I would say if you did.’  
He nods, biting the inside of his cheek in a physical attempt to stop from asking if she’s sure. Dropping his head to her shoulder, his lips press against her raw flesh so softly Bobby’s not sure she won’t start crying again. How dare he? How dare he push her as far as she needed to go? How dare he wrap her up in his concern and soothe her from the inside out?  
‘I’m sorry I hurt you.’  
He murmurs it into her skin.  
‘Isn’t that kind of the point?’  
The softness she hoped would permeate the question is notably absent. He stiffens. She turns, kissing him deliberately before he has a chance to pull away or think too hard about what she means. It answers the things he’s forbidden from asking, relieving him as her tongue strokes his again and again. Soreness is spreading in her hips from the strain. As she shifts out from under him, he slides onto his side, still rigid and now glistening under the lights. Her gaze is assessing as ever, as she arranges herself opposite him, their noses inches apart. It was easy to see why his legend had become so powerful when she can take in the raw strength of his body like this. She glances down at him, hard and curved towards her. Her eyebrows quirk in surprise but Steve’s face is only open, wanting. He’s waiting for her, she knows. Maybe she should put him out of his misery. Dainty fingers reach out to encircle his cock, levering it down until she slots him between her thighs, the friction causing little shocks in her belly as she slides back and forth, back and forth.  
‘Fuck, you’re so wet.’  
He huffs, gripping her hip in an attempt to anchor himself. She’s moving to kiss him again but he’s too far gone. Steve flips her onto her back, looming over her with all the glory and breadth of his intent. And she’s thrumming with it.  
‘Stay.’  
His tone is gravel and threat. The excitement she feels watching him stalk around the room, is matched only by seeing him return, two identical silver bands in his grip. She’s positively vibrating with her need to go to him, kneel at his feet, splay herself wide to be hollowed out and used at will. But he told her to stay. Good girls do what they’re told. A slow smirk curves his mouth, her eyes flashing as he makes her wait. But he has to take pity eventually.  
‘Come here.’  
She crawls slowly to the edge of the bed, never breaking eye contact. Retaliation if he ever saw it.  
‘Do you trust me?’  
Of all the questions she could have expected from him, this wasn’t on the list. She’d told him as much hadn’t she? She let him choke her, given him the tools with which to expose her, let him insider her, her thoughts, her vulnerable spaces. But Steve knew, she could let him push her to breaking point and he still wouldn’t have all of her, not until she consciously decided. But what was more shocking than him asking, she realised, was that she did. Completely.  
‘Yes.’  
She had no other choice.  
‘I’m going to fuck you, but not in that sweet pussy of yours.’  
Steve was quiet, giving her the opportunity to rebuff him, scoff, leave… But she stayed. Her eyes travel down his body finding him still shiny and stiff, remembering his girth and how stretched she felt when he had her bent over. The Captain was no small feat. Her eyes meet his through lowered lashes before she lifts her head fully. All saccharine threat.  
‘How do you want me?’ she snakes her way to his mouth, a breath away ‘Captain.’  
He lets her revel in her small triumph as he watches her lips move around his title. She knows exactly what it does to him. But he won’t give her the satisfaction. Not this time. Bobby suddenly finds herself on her belly, unceremoniously flipped over with her hands behind her in a hold that feels all too familiar to the Captain. She’d barely seen him move and he’d subdued her in less time than she took to orient herself. It wasn’t hard to believe everything she’d ever heard about the famed soldier. His fingers were tight around her wrists, warm and hard until she felt the cool slide of metal. She turns her head in a vein attempt to catch his expression, but she’s trapped. A slight struggle against her restraints. Not even a budge. Two hands pulled her by her hips to the edge of the bed until she can place her feet on the floor. Unable to hold herself up as she was, she was folded, shoulders pushing into the bed, hips in the air, primed for his attack.  
‘So beautiful…’  
One hand trails up over the curve of her thigh, sliding up her back finally grasping the join in her cuffs roughly. He pushes his tip into her folds, dipping into her wetness and spreading it around her clit. Bobby turns her head sharply, keening into the mattress, pushing back insistently. When he pulls out, she follows him, barely aware of the slippery sound he makes as he coats himself from base to tip in her arousal. Then there’s silence. She can’t see him, can’t hear him, isn’t aware of the curling of his fingers around her restraints. She’s doesn’t even know she’s holding her breath until she feels him nudging her entrance, insistent and unbending. Then she’s panting, shallow and sharp into the sheets as he pushes and pushes.  
‘Good girl, good girl, good…’  
He’s chanting under his breath.  
‘Fuck, you’re so tight, Bobby. So tight, and wet.’  
The last word is strangled out of his chest as he slips his cockhead into her ass. His exhale is long and hard, hot against her back. She shivers under it, goose bumps fleshing out along her ribs.  
‘Christ, look at you.’  
He’s awed. Seeing her smooth skin and rigid back break apart under his touch, knowing that he could do that to her, had done that to her…  
Steve steeled himself, adamant that this wouldn’t be over as soon as he slid home.  
‘Don’t stop, don’t stop’  
Desperate and eagre, coming from her mouth it sounds like a prayer.  
Angling himself, he continues to push, pausing just before coming to rest flush against her. He grasps her at the join between her neck and shoulder pulling her up slightly.  
‘Who do you belong to?’  
She’s breathless, her voice soft.  
‘You.’  
He pulls out, shallowly thrusting into her, her slick moving up his cock so he slips further and further into her ass with each movement.  
‘Who do you belong to?’  
The question is louder, forceful. He’s mesmerised watching her perform her magic trick over and over as he disappears into her body.  
‘You.’  
The word is choked under his pressure. It drives him higher, strings him tighter. His hand taught around her neck in his grip.  
‘Who owns you?’  
And he drives into her fully, flattening his hips against the curve of her ass. She curls upwards, her back arching into his grip on her cuffs.  
‘You!’  
She sobs, fragmented as he rests, exulting in the feeling of being as deep inside her as possible; her body squeezing him, undulating around him, so warm, so smooth. Fingers move from her throat to her shoulder, finding solid placement for a fresh assault.  
‘Yes. Let me hear you. Come on, scream for me.’  
And he’s ruthless. Pulling her back into him without giving her time to adjust to his withdrawal. Sliding almost all the way out as he so likes to do, before driving right back into her so the bed dents her thighs. She didn’t need to be told to scream. The sound rips out of her throat in a frantic attempt to survive, just survive his onslaught. He was wide, stretching her until she felt like she was being torn in two. She ached. Every time she thought she could bear his rhythm, he’d bend her further, spread her wider, ensure that she needed every ounce of strength to simply hang on. She didn’t know how much more she could take. He was thick and heavy in her belly. A feeling that she didn’t recognise; a breaking point. It was overwhelming, being winded with every thrust. If he’d slow down, she could catch her breath. But hearing how beautifully strained he was, how completely he was losing himself by the marks dotting her flesh under his fingertips, how could she deny herself the pleasure of seeing him come apart? Her voice was shrill in her own ears, but the Good Captain only become more resolved, chasing his completion with every yelp. It was too much. She was going to explode. Bobby bit down on the sheets, searching blindly for an anchor, the piercing nature of her screams muffled under the slap, slap, slap of Steve slamming into her. Her shoulders strained from where her arms were pulled backwards. Maybe she couldn’t take it.  
‘Amber.’  
The word peters out on the tail end, morphing into a whine.  
Steve’s grunting, too close to realise what she’s said.  
‘You’re going to make me come. God, you’re so good. I’m going to come for you.’  
Her hiccups are being swallowed whole in the Captain’s ferocity.  
‘Oh god, you’re mine, you’re mine.’  
She’s shattering.  
‘Amber.’  
This time he hears, jerking out of her but it’s too much. Knowing that he’s pushed her to a place he wasn’t even sure he could. Knowing she’s let him. Seeing her bent, spent, was his undoing. He comes thickly across the globe of her ass and onto her lower back. He can’t help but stroke himself roughly, wringing every last drop onto her pristine skin. His breath hitches breaking his wretched tempo.  
‘Oh God, Bobby. Bobby.’  
A swift press into the restraints and she’s released, caging her arms under her torso.  
‘Bobby?’  
‘I’m ok, Steve’  
She crawls forward bringing her legs under her, shrinking even further if possible.  
‘Wait,’ his hand rests against her thigh ‘let me look at you.’  
And look he does, cataloguing the deeper hued fingerprints along her collarbones compared with the fresh red handprint on her shoulder. The flush in her cheeks that travels down her breasts. Her skin made sticky; proof of his ownership, however ephemeral. And two slim light purple rings around each of her wrists. Had she been struggling? Just how far had he pushed her? His brow creases.  
‘Don’t do that.’  
Gone is her demanding tone he’s come to savour. Just what had he done to her?  
‘You asked me to stop.’  
‘No, I didn’t’  
‘You told me to stop, and I didn’t stop.’  
‘Steve, that’s not what happened.’  
She shuffles to the edge, drawing up at tall as she can. She wished she knew his trick to looking so large. He’s searching her face, imploring her to assuage his fears that he hasn’t ruined her, ruined everything. The skin of his cheek is dotted with stubble. It rubs rough along her palm as he nuzzles into her proffered hand.  
‘Bobby, I’m sorry. I didn’t think that I’d get so-’  
‘-Stop.’  
It’s more forceful this time. She moves closer until their lips are brushing, their chests pressed up against each other. Up close her eyes are glazed in her exertion, smudged makeup on the high points of her cheeks. Her breath is warm, soothing against his mouth.  
‘As soon as you heard me, you stopped.’  
‘As soon as I heard you I came.’  
He’s chasing her lips as she brushes over his again and again. She grins.  
‘The prospect of breaking me push you over the edge, Captain?’  
He huffs, returning her smile and finally captures her teasing mouth, seeking out her tongue with his own.  
‘I didn’t call a stop,’ her voice is a whisper ‘so please don’t act like I did.’  
She finally sounds like herself. His arms wrap around her, disturbing the pleasure patterns he’s made on her back. He doesn’t care. He can’t get close enough to her.  
‘Are you sore?’  
‘Yes.’  
The challenge is back in her tone. He growls against her neck.  
‘Good.’  
It’s good to have her Captain back.  
‘You better clean me up Cap. You made a mess of me.’  
When he returns with a warm wet cloth, he holds her to him again, needing her skin to skin. His touch is gentle, worshipful as he passes it over her, his head still turned into her hair, pressing his cheek against hers every so often. She returns the favour, taking her time to admire the sheer strength of his body, how capable he was of wrecking her. Maybe she didn’t deserve him. She doesn’t care. In this moment she was his, and he was hers.  
‘Will you stay?’  
‘I want to.’  
A beat.  
‘But you can’t.’  
His tone is flat, resigned. She’s coming to hate when she disappoints him.  
‘I want to, Steve. I do. But the ground break is first thing tomorrow morning.’  
He’s avoiding her gaze. Something she rectifies with a few sure fingers under his chin tilting his head up.  
‘Saturday.’  
Confusions settles on his face.  
‘I’m free Saturday night if you’d like to have dinner with me.’  
His pursed lips stretch into a grin that lights him up from the inside out.  
‘Miss Di Breve, are you asking me on a date?’  
‘I do believe I am, Captain.’  
She can’t believe the giggles threatening to erupt as he kisses her smiling mouth. What had he done to her?

Epilogue

‘How was training?’  
Even if Bucky had been able to mask his tone, the grin on his face made clear that he’d seen through Steve’s fib.  
‘Hmm?’  
It’s not fair of him to ask either, not when his friend’s attention is obviously rapt with the woman standing left of stage.  
‘Training went well, I take it?’  
Mock seriousness contorts Bucky’s mouth in an attempt not to laugh. Neither can help a chuckle when Steve finally meets his eyes.  
‘Jerk’  
Buck glances left, to where Bobby is watching the press like a hawk as they crowd Tony.  
‘She must be one helluva fighter for you to need to cuff her’  
‘What?’ Steve’s head jerks sharply towards his friend. ‘I don’t know wh-’  
Bucky’s gesture is anything but subtle, cutting him off and pointing to a slim wrist, raised to smooth down an imaginary piece of her hair, sunlight glinting off the silver cuff encircling it.


End file.
